I shake my head in curt denial and pull my arm away, keeping my gaze trained on the green lawn outside. There’s something nibbling at the edge of my brain, some errant, half-formed thought that I can’t quite grasp. It has to do with something Peter said, something he mentioned in passing… I hear him leaving the room, his footsteps quiet in the hallway, and suddenly it hits me.

Spinning around, I sprint after him, ignoring the shock on Rosa’s face as I push her out of the way. “Peter! Peter, wait!”

He stops in the hallway, giving me a cool look as I skid to a stop next to him. “What is it?”

“I know,” I gasp out. “Peter, I know exactly what to do. I know how to get Julian back.”

His expression doesn’t change. “What are you talking about?”

I draw in a gulping breath and begin to explain my plan, speaking so fast I’m tripping over the words. I can see him shaking his head as I speak, but I persist anyway, driven by a sense of urgency more intense than anything I’ve ever experienced. I need to convince Peter that I’m right. Julian’s life depends on it.

“No,” he says when I’m done. “This is insane. Julian would kill me—”

“But he might be alive to kill you,” I interrupt. “There’s no other option. You know that as well as I do.”

He shakes his head, and the look he gives me is genuinely regretful. “I’m sorry, Nora—”

“I will give you the list,” I blurt out, grasping at the only straw I can think of. “I will give you the list of names before your three years are up if you do this. Julian will hand it over as soon as he gets it into his hands.”

Peter stares at me, his expression changing for the first time. “You know about the list?” he asks, his voice pulsing with such anger that I have to fight the urge to step back. “The list Esguerra promised me?”

I nod. “I do.” Under any other circumstances, I would be terrified to provoke this man, but I’m beyond fear at the moment. A recklessness born of desperation drives me now, giving me uncharacteristic courage. “And I know that you won’t get it if Julian dies,” I continue, pressing my point. “All this time you’ve been working for him will be in vain. You’ll never be able to get revenge on the people who killed your family.”

His impassive look disappears completely, his face transforming into a mask of blazing fury. “You don’t know shit about my family,” he roars, and this time I do take a step back, my self-preservation instinct belatedly kicking in as I see his hands tightening into fists. “You fucking dare taunt me with them?”

He takes a step toward me as I back away, my heart hammering in my chest. Then, with a sharp, violent motion, he twists and punches the wall, his fist breaking through the drywall. I flinch, jumping back, and he punches the wall again, taking his rage out on it as he undoubtedly wants to do on me.