Her inadvertent role in Lenny’s death pressed down on her chest, an invisible weight. No matter what happened she would never forget how Cyril had used her. Even if she succumbed to the curse and lost her soul, she would remember. Somehow she would cling to a shred of humanity, a bleeding scrap to bury deep and pull out one day when the chance arose. On that day she would make Cyril pay for all he had taken from her.

“Does it seem darker to you?”

Claire glanced at the single window. The muted beam of light was higher now, hitting the wall and not the floor.

“Just a bit.” Her voice quavered on the lie.

“I’ve been thinking about the way I’m gonna die—”

“Nina, don’t—”

“Please, let me say what I have to.” Nina grabbed her hand. Claire gasped at the unexpected coldness of her slight fingers. Her dark stare demanded she listen. “You could kill me before you change.”

She shook her head and pulled her hand free of Nina’s grasp, the horror of what she asked too much to contemplate.

Before she could voice her protest, Nina rushed on to say, “Over there. Take one of those.”

Claire followed her finger to where several pipes lay stacked near an old furnace. Instantly, she understood what Nina would have her do.

“One strike—”

“No,” Claire broke in, shaking her head from side to side, horror wringing her heart. “I’m not a killer.”

“Listen to me,” Nina insisted in a surprisingly steady voice, her sad, solemn eyes so adult as they looked up at Claire. “It could be over. Quick. It’s better than—” Her voice lost its steadiness and she choked on a sob. She covered her face with her one good hand. “I don’t want to die that way.”

“Sshh, I know.” Claire stroked her long hair, the strands silk under her hand.

Nina swiped her wet cheeks with the backs of her fingers and sniffed, her voice rising strong again. “The pipe.”

Claire shook her head, strands of hair clinging to her tear-soaked cheeks. “I can’t.”

“You have to.” She squeezed Claire’s hand with her chilled one. “You owe me that. Don’t let me die the way he intends.” She shook her head side to side vehemently. “Not that way.”

Claire stared into her face for several moments, the weight on her chest now too tight to draw air into her lungs. How could she refuse Nina a humane death?

Standing, she made her way to the pile of pipes, her heart an aching throb beneath her breastbone. Bending, her hand closed around the smooth steel. Staring at it in horror, she tested its weight in her hand.

Oh God, how can I do this?