Karim pressed behind her, forcing her forward, his body pushing her, the blade biting at her skin. Susan managed to take her bad arm by the wrist with her other hand to try to keep it steady, but she still winced each time they took a step. Her throat stung where the blade had nicked her flesh. She concentrated on Archie. Walking to Archie. If she made it, she told herself, she got to go home. She got to go home to Jefferson Starship and cherry incense and Bliss and her caramel apples. She got to sleep on her futon bed, and she’d take life more seriously, write a real book, and maybe she’d finally learn how to play guitar. She’d choose a direction, like Bliss had said. Susan didn’t mind Jefferson Starship, really, she’d always secretly liked that band.

Archie nodded at her, coaxing her toward him. She wanted to believe that he had a plan—that he was stronger than he looked—but the closer she got, the direr his condition seemed. Karim was right. Archie could barely stand. If she made it to him, Susan told herself, she’d hold him up. That was all he needed, someone to lean against. They would both get to go home. The knife nicked her flesh again, and Susan winced, feeling a thread of blood trickle down her neck. Karim pushed her forward another step. They were still a few feet shy of Archie when Karim jerked to a stop, wrenching Susan’s shoulder again. She bit her lip from the pain.

“Get them,” Karim said.

She looked at Archie. He gave her a slight nod. The ring of keys was on the floor. There were maybe forty keys affixed to a black horseshoe-shaped charm. Karim lowered Susan forward, the blade still at her neck, his gun still trained on Archie. Again, Archie gave Susan an encouraging nod. She extended her good arm, fingers straining for the keys. She recognized the horseshoe charm. It was Hermès. Jack had probably spent three hundred dollars on it. She told herself that if she could just touch it, she could keep it. It was a horseshoe. It would bring her luck.