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“Did?” she says.“Did?”

But Torin just sighs softly. “A long time ago, Shiv. Yeah, I did. As much as someone no more than a kid could. Jesus, we were young. And you… you died. I was told you died.”

“You didn’t wait before marryingher.” She waves the gun from me to him and me and then back to him again.

He takes a step closer to her and she snaps the gun to me again, and he stops.

“Shiv, you had years to make yourself known.”

“It took me a long time to recover. I was in a coma for seven months.” She shakes her head, and with her gun still pointed at me, her eyes are fixed on him. It’s like she’s seeing him and not seeing him, like a part of her is in the past. “I died three times on the operating table and apparently, they had to revive me when I got to the hospital. After my so-called family dumped me at the emergency room and took off.”

“I told Donal and Gerry to take you to the hospital, to make sure they did everything to save you. I was told you were dead. You understand that, right?”

Part of me wants to curl up in a ball and huddle in a corner. This is his love, his life, back from the dead, like a bad soap opera, playing out in my living room.

Except…

Except Torin’s not being loving. He’s being kind, but that’s not the same.

And I recognize the difference now.

He’s trying to smooth out and soothe the situation, de-escalate her maniacal actions, but I don’t hear love in his tone, just long-ago connections he’s trying to graze.

Or maybe I’m being naïve and it’s wishful thinking on my part.

“You all right there, Harry?” he asks me, like he can pick up my rioting thoughts through the ethos.

“I think so.”

“She thinks so, Shiv. Why don’t we let her go and have this out, you and me? She doesn’t need to be involved.”

Her gun snaps to him and then back to me. “No. I’m not stupid. I’ve been following you both. You care for her. You…” Her voice cracks. “If she leaves, it’ll be in a body bag.”

“Those are words that earn a death sentence, Shiv. For you.” Torin’s voice is flat and deadly, and I’m not sure the promise registers. Then he pauses. “Tell me about why you never reached out. I’m listening. Was it two months in a coma?”

“Seven months. Seven fucking months in a coma!” she bites out. “They moved me to the UK, to a facility for long-term coma patients. I was there as a Jane fucking Doe. Scared theshiteout of the nurse when I woke up screaming.”

Her gun starts to shake again, and she can’t settle her gaze until Torin murmurs, “Look at me, Shiv.”

She does, but the gun stays trained on me. I don’t dare move.

“Couldn’t remember much,” she says, voice choked. “but I was fucking angry. It took me a long time, too long to recover and piece it all together. Once I got my memory back, then I had to piece the events together. Things… some things don’t sit right. I can’t… we called in the Serbs to make some cash. I think…”

My stomach turns to lead as acid burns up the sides of my throat. He?—

But he’s not moving.

And he’s homed in on her like a sniper.

An assassin.

Even before he says it, I know the truth now.

If anyone called in those men who stormed the farmhouse, it was her. Not Torin.

Because he risked his life for me.

Saved me.