Just a few minutes later, he reemerged, calling goodbye to the people inside. The incident in the window was obviously forgotten, because he didn’t check the street again. Instead, he turned left, heading toward the river.

Heading toward home.

I followed on the other side of the street. When the traffic cleared, I crossed and fell in behind him. We walked in tandem, half a block apart, but he never looked back. I knew, somehow I knew, that he would take the shortcut home through the park, despite the warnings from Karly that it wasn’t safe. He’d go through the tunnel beside the river, and he’d cut across the open grass where it was pitch black.

The three of us would be together. Dylan. Me. And the killer who was waiting for both of us.

I knew my job. I had to stop that killer once and for all. His journey ended here. This was why I was in this world. I swore to myself that I had no other motives in my heart.

Except I was lying.

I couldn’t hold back dark thoughts bubbling out of that well of envy and desire. Everything this man had, I wanted. His wife. His child. His job. My perfect life was right there in front of me, and all I had to do was take it for myself. If this man disappeared, no one would know. No one would miss him. I’d become him. I would go home and wrap Karly up in my arms, and this world would go on just as it had before. The only price to pay was one sin.

A life for a life.

Eve Brier had whispered to me when this began: You might be tempted to stay.

And not just stay. She’d seen this coming. She’d known that sooner or later, a serpent would dangle an apple in front of me and encourage me to take a bite. You might be tempted to kill that other version of yourself.

Yes, I was tempted. In fact, I couldn’t think about anything else.

Ahead of me, Dylan reached the bridge over the river. He crossed to the east side, still unaware of my presence only a few steps behind him. If he stayed straight, he’d remain on the brightly lit city streets, but the park was immediately below him, beckoning with its solitude and darkness.

I knew that’s where he’d go, because that’s where I would go.

And he did.

He turned onto the park path and skidded down a grassy slope. The empty tunnel led beside the river. For a brief moment, the hill blocked me from his view, and I used that moment to close the distance between us. When I got to the tunnel, Dylan was a shadow moving toward the light, only steps ahead of me.