And Lotham takes him out. Bang, bang, bang.
Angelique drops the bat. “Emmanuel! Please help my brother.”
“LiLi! Are you okay? LiLi!”
More pounding footsteps. Cops pouring into the room, flooding down the hall. I should say something, I should move. But I can’t seem to get to my feet. I can’t seem to find my voice. An unbelievable pressure is building in my chest.
Then Lotham is kneeling over me.
“Hold on there, Frankie. Just hold on. I got you.”
“Angelique,” I whisper. “Emmanuel.”
“You did it, Frankie. You found her. You rescued both of them. They’re safe.”
“Paul,” I say.
“He’d be very proud of you.”
I start to cry then. Blood and tears. Past and present. Old wounds and fresh scars.
“I got you, Frankie. I got you,” Lotham reassures me.
And I believe him.