Julia screamed, falling, toppling onto her twin, her weight mashing Sophia against the floor. “You . . . you bitch,” she spat over the sound of a siren wailing distantly. “You goddamned . . . stupid . . . bitch—” Words failed her. She started to gurgle and gasp, to cough, her eyes wide. “No . . . oh . . .”

Pushing her away, Sophia looked up just in time to watch James sway in the doorway, blood sprouting on his chest.

Oh, no . . .

He fell forward, crumpling, his head striking the bottom rung of the ladder with a horrifying thud.

Tears filled Sophia’s eyes. “No baby,” she whispered, vaguely aware of the sirens as her consciousness threatened to fade. Eyes fluttering closed, she heard the thunder of footsteps and the shouted, frantic bark of orders.

“Three down!” A woman’s voice. One she couldn’t name, but it was familiar . . . or was it? Sophia couldn’t concentrate, was losing touch.

“You heard me!” the woman barked again. “Three!” Her voice crackled with authority and concern. “I need EMTs. ASAP! . . . Yes, same address! Shit, just hurry!”

“Still unidentified?” Another voice. Male?

“Did you hear me? It’s bad here!” the woman said again. “I’m losing two, possibly all three.”

Sophia closed her eyes, felt a hand on her, heard the gentle commands from a distance. “Stay with me . . . can you hear me? Come on, now, lady, stay with me . . .”

But Sophia, fading, wasn’t paying attention.

Another voice was rising over the din.

Julia was speaking to her.

While the emergency worker tried vainly to capture her attention, Sophia heard her sister’s voice, as clear as the toll of a church bell. “We’re sisters, Sophia. You and I. Twins. It’s a miracle we found each other, and now we have a special, unbreakable bond. We’re together, you and I. Nothing can destroy that. Nothing!”

She didn’t have to say it. Sophia knew. But it was so hard to concentrate, to focus . . . she stopped trying.

“We’ll always have each other,” Julia whispered in a voice that broke with its sincerity, its truth. And as the blackness came for her, Sophia heard her sister’s vow. “Always. We’ll be together. I promise.”

I promise too.

And then Sophia let go.

CHAPTER 53

CHAPTER 53

James opened an eye.

His head hurt.

His shoulder hurt.

His whole damned body hurt.

The room was in semi-darkness, and he saw that he was in the hospital.

“Déjà vu all over again,” he said through cracked lips. He barely recognized his own voice as he blinked and looked around the room to spy a man seated in a chair, wearing an overcoat, holding a hat between his knees. The detective. Of course.

“You got that right,” Rivers said.