Mara had lived in prison, in that rough environment where women lived, worked and fought without privacy or kindness. But she had a streak of delicacy about her, probably the result of her elite childhood.

Kellen put her hand to her back and limped toward the bathroom, groaning as various aches and pains hit her. Sadly, she wasn’t exaggerating.

But Old Angel had told her to sleep and the solution to her struggle with Mara would present itself—and it had. It was a very final solution…if it worked. I know one sure way to finish Mara, and I have to do it today.

She used the toilet, washed her face and hands, drank water straight from the tap—there was no filter, and no glass, either—and wandered out, elaborately casual. “What a difference a day makes. Can you believe this weather?”

Mara scrutinized her, the damp hair around her face, her offhand air, and kept her shotgun pointed right at Kellen. “You make me want to change my mind.”

“Then let’s hurry and start the game.” Kellen headed out the door. She listened for footsteps that followed. She listened for the blast of the shotgun. Foolish, for if Mara shot, she wouldn’t hear anything ever again. But nonetheless, the hair rose on the back of her neck.

She heard footsteps behind her, and Mara said spitefully, “You carry on and on about Rae, about how you love her and that’s the reason you want to kill me. You never mention the real reason you want to win.”

Kellen stopped on her way out the door. “What’s that?”

“You’re afraid to die.”

“I’m afraid to die?”

“Everybody’s afraid to die. Except me.” Mara sounded so certain. “I’m not afraid to die.”

Kellen started down the corridor toward the stairs, and she thought hard about Mara’s comment. “You don’t believe it’s possible for you to die. You’re a child who’s never had to live with the consequences of your actions. That’s not the same.” Without drawing breath to allow Mara to speak, she said, “I am afraid to die. But I almost died when I was married to my first husband, and almost died again when I was shot in the head, and was blown up while I was in the Army. I almost died after brain surgery, and the life I have now is precious to me.” At the top of the stairs, she turned to face Mara. “It’s precious to me because of the people who are in my life. Max and Rae.” She ran down the stairs and into the kitchen. She marched into the pantry and grabbed five nutrition bars.

She inspected the seals on each one. None had been tampered with.