As he drew near her, she began to back up. Her feet felt like jelly, her stomach churned until she felt bile rise in her throat.

“Abel, I’m begging you to stop,” she sobbed. “Please!”

“You’ve got two choices, Rina,” he said. His steps were soundless, carefully measured. “Shoot me or don’t shoot me. Now I’m betting that no matter how threatened you feel, you can’t look me in the eye and pull the trigger. But if you do…hey, that’s cool.”

“Please,” Rina whispered. The gun was shaking in her hands. Her palms were moist and hot. She felt as if she were about to faint, but willed herself the strength to do whatever she had to.

Abel waited until he’d backed her against the wall, then stopped around ten feet in front of her.

“You’re sure you know how to use that?” he said.

So calm. Rina felt hot tears well up, spilling over her cheek.

“Yes,” she managed to answer.

“Then you’d better use it,” Abel said. “Or else I’m going to take it out of your hands.”

“Oh God, please help me,” Rina sobbed.

“Last chance, Rina,” Abel said calmly.

Then, at once, he lunged at her. A second later, her hands were empty. Abel stood six inches in front of her, the gun resting in his hands. He smiled at her, shook his head sadly.

“You blew it, kid,” Abel said. He twirled the gun like a slinger in an old Western. “If I were a rapist, you’d not only be up shit’s creek without a paddle, you wouldn’t even have a boat.” He pointed the gun to her temple.

All Rina could see was the faces of her sons. She whispered, “I have children.”

Abel said, “If I were a murderer, I’d say something like…you should have thought about them a second ago.” He traced her jaw outline with the barrel of the snub nose. With his free hand, he pulled off her kerchief and loosened her hair. “You’re a beautiful woman, know that?”

Rina didn’t answer. Her boys. Orphans. Peter had no chance of getting them…. Her parents would fight for them…. Dear God, if not for her, for them. She began to recite the Shema to herself.

Abel moved the gun closer until the muzzle touched her forehead, held it that way for a moment, then let the trigger guard rotate around his finger until the barrel pointed downward. He stood that way for a second, two seconds, then three and four, until Rina finally realized he was offering the gun back to her. Slowly, her hand began to rise, until her fingertips touched the chamber. It was then that her feet gave way. She slid, back snaking down the wall, until she collapsed onto the floor and wept. Abel sat beside her, opened her purse, and slipped the gun inside.