Page 57

“Ava, you’re going to pay!” Marley cries out.

Shit. She hasn’t slipped and cracked her head. Or fallen into the pool and drowned.

As she claws her way to me, the final scene of my plan plays out in my head. One of us, or both of us, is going to end up dead.

Narrowly having escaped the flying umbrella, I reach the end of the property. My heart racing. My breath aflutter. All that separates me from the mile-high drop is a veil of rain. And a few inches.

The rain pounding, the wind howling, I stand still as a statue waiting for her. Holding my breath. The iron poker hidden behind my back, I hear footfalls.

She finds me.

Illuminated by the sliver of moonlight, a blood-streaked Marley stands before me. In her drenched, sullied sweats, the hood of her black sweatshirt pulled over her head, she looks frightening. Fearless to my fearful. The rain beats down upon us. We’re about three feet apart. Her left hand is lodged in a pocket, the other hidden behind her.

“Give me my baby! My Miabel!”

“Don’t shoot,” I shout, raising my palm, my voice loud but calm. I’m not sure if she still has the gun. “Give me a second to get her out of the carrier.”

Marley’s waterlogged eyes don’t blink as she watches me loosen the side straps. Keeping one hand on the baby, careful to support her head, I pull the carrier over my head. With both hands, I hold the baby close to my chest.

“Give her to me! Now!” she roars.

I stare her in the face. “Yes, Marley, she’s yours.”

The whites of Marley’s eyes go wide as I hurl the baby into the air.