“Be quiet,” the mayor snaps, but she steps forward—toward him, like she’s drawn into his gravity despite herself. They’re only a step or two away now.

“If you let me save you,” Elliott says, “I’ll do it. I’ll forgive you. Not because you deserve it.” He raises his hands a little, palms out, like he’s surrendering. “It’s because I can’t help it. So, please. For once, just this once, do something for me—and let me save you.”

The mayor’s shoulders square. Something settles over her. “Do not,” she orders, “take one more step.”

She’s still got her gun aimed at him, and she looks like she means what she says. Like she will stop him any way she has to, enforce her will any way she must.

My fingers curl around the padlock. I judge my moment carefully.

“Mom,” Elliott says, his voice so quiet I can barely hear it. He reaches out, slowly, carefully, and wraps his fingers around the barrel of her gun. “I love you.”

He waits for her to respond. She doesn’t. Instead, she starts to turn her head—probably to order one of the officers behind her to cuff us.

Now. I throw the padlock hard at the mayor’s head. She catches the motion, her eyes flicking from her son to me. She shifts her aim in my direction, Elliott’s hand still on the barrel of the gun, as the padlock flies toward her.

She fires.

I’m already ducking out of the way before the gunshot goes off. Elliott must’ve been able to screw up her aim, because no bullet tears into my body, but I don’t have time for gratitude. I’m grabbing for something on the floor—my emergency hand mirror, the one that got knocked off the desk earlier, the one that’s lying only two inches from my foot now. I scoop it up, rip off the masking tape that covers its surface, and stand, ready to implement the next part of my plan: threatening them with the mirror. I look up to find Elliott, to yell at him to follow my lead.

He’s standing in the same spot as a moment ago. No—not quite the same spot. He’s on the landing now, blocking my view of the mayor completely. From this angle he’s silhouetted against the darkness.

He doesn’t move.

I edge toward the desk, which I plan to use as a shield. From here I can see the mayor again. She’s on the ground now, both hands clutching her head. My aim with the padlock was good. It looks like Elliott managed to take her gun away after all, too. He’s still holding it out in front of him, fingers wrapped around the barrel.