And in that moment, whatever fragment of doubt might have survived in me died completely, and I felt only a cold and total clarity.

I looked at Mira, asleep and safe, and I looked up at him, and I smiled.

“Of course,” I whispered.

“Just give me a little time to recover.” He kissed my forehead, completely satisfied, and left.

He thought he had won.

He had just performed, in front of a nurse and a witness, the very desperation that would convict him.

Chapter 11 — The Escape Route