Gabby struggled to remember CPR and first aid. She pressed her other hand harder against Jessa’s blood-soaked shirt, desperate to stop the bleeding. Red stained the floor and her skin. The memory of finding Baines in the same room whipped through her. Death sank into every inch and every corner and festered there.

“Do not move.”

Gabby heard Retta’s order. She didn’t know if it was meant for her, but she couldn’t go anywhere. She had to sit there and protect Jessa until the ambulance arrived. Hold her hand on the gaping wound and hope Jessa still had a chance with a flurry of machines pumping air and blood for her.

“Gabby?” Retta’s voice floated through the quiet room.

Gabby ignored the soft-toned outreach. Mentor, judge, supporter. She’d done this. She’d stalked Jessa, followed her here, and killed her. Brought a man with her to finish the job. A man Gabby recognized from the grocery store parking lot all those weeks ago. The man who had intervened when Rob tried to give her information. Retta had had him following her all along.

“Gabby, listen to me.” Retta kneeled across from her, on the other side of Jessa’s still body. Retta reached out and checked for a pulse.

When Retta’s hand fell limp on her lap, Gabby knew.

“She needs help.” Gabby felt rage for Jessa instead of at her. Jessa’s life could not end this way. Not during one of the only times she’d taken a chance for someone else. For her . . . Gabby hated it, but Jessa was only in this house, on the floor, because of her, which meant she’d done this. She’d made demands and said awful things about who Jessa was, pushed her to help. And now she was dying.

Gabby looked up, ready to scream the house down, until she looked at Retta’s face. Tears ran down her cheeks, as if she cared. As if she hadn’t ordered this.

The need to spew hatred and vent about blame poured through Gabby. “Where is the ambulance? When did you call?”

“No one is coming.”

No one . . . “What? How can that . . . How could you . . .”

Retta sighed. “We need to come to an understanding. Right now.”

“Screw that.” Gabby fumbled, trying to remember where she put her cell. Pocket, right. She took it out, but before she could hit a button, the man behind her stole it out of her hand. “What are you—”

“There’s not going to be any miracle here. Jessa will die today.” Retta wiped her cheeks, sounding ragged and a bit lost. So quiet and forlorn, and totally uncharacteristic of her. “How she will be remembered and who will take the blame is up to you.”

“Don’t put this on me.” Gabby started to rock back and forth. She tried to stop, but her body refused to obey.