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CHAPTER 1
11 MONTHS LATER
MANHATTAN, NEW YORK
The city has never felt so cold Steel and glass buildings jut froround between a sea of worn, black pave crown on the pavement as the sun sinks below the horizon The crowd presses in closer as h the ht of steps is unending They come one after another
Soh the air, headed straight atback the chair because you deserve it!” It’s a woe and uards in the ar the woman ahile she screa masses
There’s a charge of violence in the air It’s so thick I can scarcely breathe
A detective looms in my wake—a wall of man called Mr Morroho sports a no-nonsense depart military haircut—bends and scoops up the object she threw Raising the splotch of white to his face, his brow furrows as he examines the small, cloth doll in his hands
The cloth toy is the type a young baby would have with no hard eyes or lose strings The doll is dressed in a white frock edged in eyelet A crimson stain blossoms on the center of the chest Morrow touches the spot, which colances at the pads of his fingers they are stained with the color of blood The detective pockets the projectile and I’m shoved forward, unable to see more
Those people and their angry cries thunder behind me as we reach the apex of the staircase
MURDERER
KILLER
MONSTER
My skin is covered in gooseflesh like itoutside and not an early fall day But it’s still war before us instead of autuht has bled into day I went froown to theThe rest is a blur
Her face My daughter’s chubby cheeks and dark hair Those bright blue Ferro eyes Soon the stone entrance Blood vessels explode in my face and neck asto voain Morrow hands me a white piece of fabric, the handkerchief from his pocket
I nod, and take it gratefully, unable to speak His partner—Mr Quin, an older Hispanic man with thick dark hair cropped close to his head and dark leathered skin with s back, a step behind Morrow He’s not the lead detective on this case, otherwise things would be different It’s in his eyes, the promise of justice
Morrow’s deep baritone voice is in , Mrs Ferro”
“Avery My name is Avery” I don’t knohy I correct hi I’ve said to him since we met
“So you’ve said” His hand is on the small ofin front of me The Manhattan courthouse
Tall colu up the enor naked bodies all supporting a center i man I suppose he represents justice Thisus respite fro sun
My head feels like it’s cracking, temple to temple I touch my head to ease the pain, but it does little to help I wish Sean were here Hell, I’d settle for Constance
But it doesn’t work that way, not with a case like this, and I nment alone
They think I did soain, followed by the rumpled crib sheets and utter silence They flicker like an old television set about to die
This htmare It can’t be real
There’s a strange sensation trying to leak out of my paralyzed heart Tears have turned to brambles at the back of my eyes It physically hurts to not shed them, but I can’t Whatever hell I’ but breathe
My fingers tighten at my sides into fists It’s less than a blink before I unfurl ling ize For what, I don’t know, but I want to beg forgiveness The need to confess, to say soh me It’s my fault I never wanted this to happen Not any of it But it doesn’t matter
The lead guard is a cop naed man
with a massive waistline, dressed in neatly pressed blues The lapel of his coat has several bars of various colors, followed by a golden star—his badge—and then below that, a simple brass naht with his wide shoulders pulled back His wide jaw is stone, locked in a near growl as more insults are snarled at me from below The people are blocked off a few steps down, unpers in protests Randorow ruddy with their tirade, their promise of justice
Riggs presses hisme to keep my head down and hurry forward My lawyer is already inside, I’ve been told
This police barricade is to ensure I’ Hesitation fillsmy feet turn to lead The desire to tell them, so they know, floods me
“Don’t do it,” Riggs whispers under his breath
When I glance at him, I crane my neck back He’s nearly a foot taller than I am His eyes are trained to look everywhere and nowhere at all It’s as if he hasn’t spoken His peers say nothing of the clipped advice to remain silent
The dryness that fills ether, I do as he says and focus on not hurling up ain
Just breathe, Avery I hear her voice inThe older worey near her face Her timbre is always smooth and calm Breathe My nostrils flare as I inhale the warm autumn air The city scents fill my head This place is home yet it’s filled with personal horrors
One lance back at the crowd I don’t bla of faces, ed deep within my throat, stuck behind an ever-present luust of hips the skirt atto pull open a charcoal colored peacoat The wool is lightweight and velvety soft, but it’s not so I remember When did I put this on?