Charlie touches my shoulder. “Your ride is here,” he said. “You need to go.”

I get up to leave. Nicholas had seemed to hear me but then doesn’t seem to want to hear anything at all. And it’s over.

There is nothing else to do. So I follow Charlie. I walk toward the door.

Then Nicholas calls out after us.

“Kristin…” he says. “Do you think she’ll be open to meeting me?”

I turn around and meet his eyes. “I think so,” I say. “Yes.”

“What will that look like?”

“She’s going to be the one to decide how much and how often she sees you. But I will make sure that the well isn’t poisoned. I’ll make sure she understands that a lot of what happened here has nothing to do with how you feel about her. And that she should know you.”

“And she’ll listen to you?”

A week before the answer would have been no. Earlier today, wasn’t it no too? She walked out of the hotel room, knowing I wanted her to stay put. And yet, I need him to believe the answer is yes. I need him to believe it and I need to believe it too, in order to pull this off. I know everything comes down to this.

I nod. “She will.”

Nicholas pauses for a moment. “Go home,” he says. “You’ll be safe. Both of you. You have my word.”

I take a deep breath in. I start to cry, right in front of him, covering my eyes quickly.

“Thank you,” I say.

He walks up to me, hands me a tissue. “Don’t thank me,” he says. “I’m not doing it for you.”

I believe him. I take his tissue anyway. Then I get out of there as quickly as I can.

The Devil Is in the Details

Grady says one thing in the car that will stay with me forever.

He says one thing to me on the way back to the U.S. Marshals’ office where Bailey is waiting.

The sun comes up over Lady Bird Lake as we drive, Austin stirring in the early morning. When we merge onto the highway, Grady turns from the road to look at me—as if I would miss it otherwise, how unhappy he is with what I’ve decided to do.

Then he says it.

“They’re going to get their revenge against Owen, one way or another,” he says. “You should know that.”

I hold his eyes, because it’s the least I can do. Because I’m not going to let him scare me.

“Nicholas just doesn’t let things go,” he says. “You’re being played.”

“I don’t think so,” I say.