Except Terry wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her. You have to decide, Juno, are you the hero or do you creep back to your hidey-hole? She rubbed the spot behind her ear.

She could walk out the door right now, save her own skin. She stepped over Nigel. She thought she could hear Terry Russel’s voice. This was none of her business. She heard a car drive by, the radio churning out rap music. Outside was so close; just a few steps and she’d fall right into the cool night. But what about Winnie…? She tried to kick the thought, think around it.

She might hear the story on the news from the women’s shelter if she got there in time to get a cot, tomorrow, maybe, but no one would ever know she’d been here. The story wouldn’t be about her this time, and she wouldn’t be the one to go to prison. The thought of prison sent panic skittering through her limbs. She was dying, and she was not going to yield up her soul in some shit cinder-block prison cell while her roommate masturbated in the bunk above her. Her hand reached for the dead bolt.

Then she heard another gunshot, her terror so blinding she moved on instinct. She was going to have to move quickly—and quickly cost her a great deal of pain. The keypad to the alarm system was in front of her. But in her haste, her shaking fingers hit the emergency button, and instantly a terrifying wailing began to scream through the house. She fumbled with the lock, risking a glance over her shoulder, and saw Dakota lumbering through the kitchen toward her. Her attention now focused on her hands, she managed to flip the dead bolt. Then the door was open and cool air was on her face and filling her open mouth. She made it to the edge of the concrete where the walk dipped into the grass and then the sidewalk. It was dark, the street outside deserted.

Juno ran, despite her aching body, pumping her legs harder than she ever had since she’d run with her boys at the park all those years ago. But everything was wrong; she wasn’t getting anywhere. And then she felt a hand yanking her back, grabbing her before she could even reach the sidewalk. With the alarm wailing in her head, and her arms and legs flapping like those inflatable waving men that stores used to advertise, Dakota dragged her back inside the house.