Page 74 of Enigma

Olive tried to get a deep breath, but her gaze stayed focused on the knife in Elena’s hand.

Her heart raced.

Olive had to act—now.

Otherwise, she felt certain she would die.

Olive found her remaining ounce of strength.

She kicked, catching Elena in the knee.

Elena stumbled but didn’t go down.

When she came back at Olive, her face was twisted with rage.

The knife sliced across Olive’s collarbone. Pain shot through her, and blood immediately began to soak through her shirt.

Elena drove Olive back against the bathroom wall. She grabbed a handful of Olive’s hair and slammed her head against the tile.

Olive’s vision blurred, and her knees started to buckle.

“Olive!” Jason’s voice echoed from outside the bathroom. “Olive, are you okay?”

Elena’s eyes flicked toward the door for just a second—but it was enough.

Olive drove her elbow into Elena’s solar plexus, doubling her over. Then she grabbed the knife hand and twisted hard, using all her training.

Elena cursed as the knife clattered to the floor.

But the woman wasn’t finished. She threw a punch that caught Olive in the temple, sending her stumbling backward into the mirror.

The glass cracked but didn’t shatter.

“Olive!” Jason pounded on the door.

Elena glanced at the small window above the toilet—barely big enough for a person to squeeze through.

“This isn’t over.” Elena’s nostrils flared as she stared at Olive, blood trickling from a cut on her forehead.

The next instant, she climbed onto the toilet and shoved the window open. She squeezed through the narrow opening, escaping into the parking lot behind the diner.

By the time Jason cracked the door facing and burst into the bathroom, Elena was gone.

Olive slid down the wall to sit on the floor. Blood dripped from her neck, and her head spun.

“Olive.” Jason dropped to his knees beside her, his hands hovering over her injuries as he tried to assess the damage. “What happened? Who did this?”

“Elena,” Olive managed, her voice hoarse. “Elena Vasquez.”

Jason’s expression hardened as he helped her to her feet. “Can you walk?”

“I think so.” Olive tested her weight on unsteady legs. “Jason, she escaped through the window.”

He looked toward the open window, then back at Olive’s bleeding arm. “We need to get you to a hospital.”

“No hospitals. Too many questions. Too much attention.” Olive leaned against him as they made their way out of the bathroom.

“Olive . . .”