Chapter 18 - The Turning Point
Enzo released her shoulders, his eyes hardening into flint. "Go. Now."
He turned and bolted out the door, pulling it shut and locking it behind him with a heavy deadbolt. Vera stood alone in the red-lit emergency glow of the bedroom, clutching the key card in her hand while Patch whimpered softly from his bed.
She looked at the reinforced wardrobe. She looked at the door. Then, her eyes fell upon her red medical bag, which Marco had thoughtfully retrieved and placed on the armchair.
Inside that bag wasn't just insulin and glucose tabs. It contained a heavy, industrial-grade stainless steel medical shears set—and a pocket knife she used to cut thick bandages.
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Vance thought she was just a helpless bystander to be shuffled around a chessboard. But Vera Sullivan had spent seven years dragging herself back from the edge of diabetic comas, navigating emergency rooms alone, and fighting for stray animals that everyone else had given up on. She wasn't going to hide in a basement like a frightened rabbit while the man who saved her life bled out on a marble staircase.
She unzipped the medical bag, grabbed the heavy shears, and slid them into the pocket of her coat.
