“I told my wife that I was filing for a divorce last night.”

“Oh. How did she take it?”

“Better than I thought she would. I was really surprised.”

“That’s great, Donovan. I’m happy for you. But dinner’s on me tonight.” I pushed his hand away and walked out the door.

The Chinese restaurant was about twenty minutes one way. There was one right around the corner from the apartment, but it wasn’t as good. I was really happy that Donovan finally got the balls to leave his wife. Now maybe he and G could start building a future together. It often made me wonder, though, if he would do the same to her one day. Since the day I met her, she had never shown this much interest in one guy. I finally arrived at the restaurant, picked up the carry out, and headed back to the apartment.

“I’m back,” I said as I opened the door and my keys dropped to the floor. When I bent down to pick them up, I noticed a trail of liquid on the dark wood floor. “What the hell?” I said as I touched it with my finger and saw that it was pure red. My heart began racing and I started to shake. “G, Donovan,” I screamed as I threw down the bag. The trail led me to the kitchen, where Donovan was lying on the floor. With shaking hands, I ran over to him and put my ear to his mouth. He was barely breathing and lying unconscious. “Giana,” I screamed as tears flowed down my face. I got up and ran through the apartment and that was when I saw Giana lying face down in a pool of blood in the hallway. Screams rang through the apartment as I rolled her over.

“Giana, Giana,” I screamed.

I ran to the door where I had left my purse and grabbed my cell phone, dialing 911.

“My best friend and her boyfriend have been shot. Please send someone here quick. Hurry!”

I rattled off the address and ran back to G. Her eyes were barely open as I applied as much pressure as I could to her gunshot wound. With my other hand, I dialed Simon.

“I’m in a meeting. I’ll call you when I’m done,” he answered.

“NO!” I screamed. “Oh my God!”

“Gabby, what’s wrong?”

I could barely say the words. My voice was shaking and I was hysterical. “G and Donovan were shot in the apartment. Simon, oh my God, help me!” I sobbed.

“I’m on my way.” Click.

G reached up and grabbed my arm.

“Who did this, G?”

“Sylvia,” she whispered.

I heard the door open and I got up and ran to the paramedics and police that entered.

“Donovan is in the kitchen and Giana is in the hall,” I cried.