It took two days for the effects of Sara’s phone call to wear off enough that she could stop crying and blaming herself. The news media was having a field day with the story, running updates about it all day, every day, either in newscasts or in banners under the anchor people. Michelle finally had to turn off the television to escape it, so that she could get herself back together.

She wanted, so desperately, to make up for what she’d done. But she didn’t even know where to start. The story was everywhere. People were condemning the American mercenaries on every news program in the world.

But Gabriel was innocent. Michelle had helped convict him in the press, without knowing who she was writing about. Now it was her turn to do her job properly, and give both sides of the story, however unpopular. She had to save him, if she could, even if he hated her forever for what she’d done.

So she went back to work. Her first act was to contact the newspaper’s man in Saudi Arabia and ask him to repeat the story his informant in Anasrah had told him. Then she contacted Eb Scott and gave him the information, so that he could pass it on to his private investigator. Before she did that, she asked him to call her back on a secure line, because she knew how some of the tabloid news bureaus sometimes had less scrupulous agents digging out information.

“You’re learning, Miss Godfrey,” Eb said solemnly.

“Not soon enough. I know who Angel is now,” she added heavily. “His sister hates me. He told her that he never wanted to see or speak to me again, either. And I deserve that. I wasn’t objective, and people are paying for my error. But I have to do what I can to undo the mess I helped make. I’m sorry I didn’t listen.”

“Too little, and almost too late,” he said brutally. “Learn from it. Sometimes the single dissenting voice is the right one.”

“I won’t forget,” she said.

He hung up.

She tried to phone Sara back and apologize once again, to tell her she was trying to repair the damage. But Sara wouldn’t accept the first phone call and after that, her number was blocked. She was heartsick. The Brandons had been so good to her. They’d made sacrifices to get her through school, through college, always been there when she needed help. And she’d repaid them like this. It wounded her as few things in life ever had.

When she tried to speak to her editor in confidence, to backtrack on the story she’d written, he laughed it off. The man was obviously guilty, he said, why make waves now? She’d made a name for herself in investigative reporting, it was all good.