“I could have found a way to make her leave, to make her go.”

“Do you think so?” It made her smile just a little. “I can’t imagine that. Since she got out of school Eve hasn’t allowed anyone to make her do anything.”

“I didn’t protect her.” He covered his face with his hands again, fighting the pressing need to break down. “She matters more than anything in my life and I didn’t protect her.”

Chris found her hand groping for his, for Eve, yes, but also for herself and for Alexander. “She stepped in front of you.” The pain shot into his eyes again. As her own rose to meet it, their fingers linked. “If you have to blame yourself, Alex, blame yourself for being the man she loves. We have to believe she’s going to be all right. I need you to believe that with me, or I don’t think I can handle any more.”

They sat and waited. Coffee was brought and grew cold. Ashtrays overflowed. The scent of hospital—antiseptic, detergent and nerves—grew familiar. They no longer noticed the guards posted in the corridors.

When Dr. Franco entered the room, they all got to their feet. His surgical cap was soaked with sweat, as was the front of his pale green scrubs. He came forward and, with the compassion natural to him, took Chris’s hand.

“The surgeon is still with her. They’ll be bringing her to recovery very soon. You have a strong sister, Miss Hamilton. She doesn’t choose to give in.”

“She’s all right?” Chris’s hand gripped the doctor’s like a vise.

“She came through the surgery better than anyone could have expected. As I explained, Dr. Thorette is the best in his field. The operation was tricky because the bullet was lodged very near her spine.”

“She’s not …” Alexander felt his father’s hand on his arm and made himself say it. “She won’t be paralyzed?”

“It’s too early for guarantees, Your Highness. But Dr. Thorette feels there is no permanent damage. I agree with him.”

“Your judgment has always been excellent,” Armand told him. His voice was rough from cigarettes and relief. “I don’t have to tell you that Eve will continue to get the very best care available.”

“No, Your Highness, you don’t. Alexander.” He used the first name, taking the privilege of an old family friend, one he had taken rarely in over thirty years. “She is young, healthy, strong. I give you my word that I can see no reason she won’t recover fully. Still, there is only so much we can do. The rest is up to her.”

“When can we see her?”