“I don’t know,” she said, choosing her words carefully, “if I can find a way to save my marriage if I go back.”

“You moved out—you’re not doing shit to save your marriage now.”

“That’s not fair.”

“You’re the one who walked out on Chris and Lizzy. You could have let Chris help you grieve. Instead, you pushed everyone away after Beth’s murder.”

“It was more than that, and you damn well know it, Mathias,” Catherine snapped.

His voice softened. “I know. I’m the only one who knows.”

And that was the crux of her problem. Only he knew she had lied to the FBI, lied to her husband, lied under oath—and Matt had backed her up. He had never wavered. How did he do that? How could he put everything that happened with Beth—with her killer—behind him so easily when the guilt ate at Catherine?

That’s why she had to leave Chris—because she couldn’t live under the same roof with the man she loved when she had lied to him. She loved her daughter, but she didn’t have it in her to be a good mother. The last thing she wanted to do was bring the darkness of humanity—the evil Catherine worked with every day—into her daughter’s life. Beth’s death had brought it all too close to home.

“Catherine, if you leave the FBI now, because of your sister’s murder, it will haunt you forever. Stop another killer. Get justice for other victims. It’s what we do—it’s what we are so good at.”

“I really wish you would respect my decision,” she said.

She’d had eight months to brace herself against any argument to lure her back into the darkness, and she stood firm now, even though he was right.

He made no move to leave. He looked at his watch, and she suspected he was on a tight time schedule. For some reason that irritated her. He expected to be able to change her mind with just one conversation sandwiched in between headquarters and the airport? He stared at her as if he saw right through her.

“Catherine, just this one.”

That angered her even more. It was his tone—as if he knew if she took just this one case that she’d be back for good.

“What can I say to you?” she said. “You think I blame myself for Beth’s death? I do—and I blame you. I was a fool to believe for a minute that you had changed, that you could care about anyone but yourself. I thought because my sister was beautiful and funny and smart that you would love her like I did, but you’re incapable. You broke her heart, Matt—and I should have warned her. Leopards don’t change their spots, do they?”

Matt mumbled under his breath in Spanish, which he often did when angry or thinking. “Eres imposible. No sabes cuándo parar.”

She was impossible? She didn’t know how to stop?

He rose from the chair, fists clenched. She almost wanted him to hit her. The physical pain might numb the ache inside her that would never fade.