Your heart is all I own," she said with a little sad laugh. "If I give it to him, it's worthless, and even if I don't, he can't take what he doesn't have." Anger was becoming a living thing in the pit of her stomach. "You mean he can't have it? I'd never thought of that." "Not for him." There was the smallest catch in her voice, as if she'd heard what he was thinking. "For you." She got up and crossed over to him. "I'm going to tell my father about them." He went very still, the smile vanishing from his face. "No," he said softly. "No, I won't let you do that." She drew herself up to her full height. "You may not have much left of me to save, but I'll make sure he understands that you won't harm me." He stared at her without speaking for a long moment. Then he sighed. "I can't stop you. I'm sorry." He rose to his feet. She saw that he was very pale, and his hands were shaking. "What are you going to do?" she asked. "I'll go downstairs and get rid of the other one." His words were soft and low. "If the old man will see me, he'll understand what it means. That's all I want. For him to understand." Her gaze locked onto his as she realized the enormity of the decision he was making for her. She felt as if her heart were being crushed under a stone that had been placed on it. His face was etched with grief, but he still moved toward her. "Haven't I already said that you are worth more than a knife?" he asked. "Only because you don't want him to use the knife," she answered quietly. "But you are wrong. The choice isn't between you and me or me and him. It's between you and him and me. A man with my background isn't likely to get another chance to avenge an injustice, but I can." "I don't want you to go," he said hoarsely. "Not now." It seemed to her that he had a moment of indecision. She felt a surge of triumph that they would have the last word. But then he shook his head. "The right thing is always going to be the hardest thing to do. I don't have the right to ask you to let go." He drew in a deep breath. "But I do have the right to tell you that there's no shame in what you're doing. Anyone would want to avenge their family." She swallowed, feeling as if she were floating high above them. "Then it's settled," she said. "I don't need you to tell me what I'm doing is right. I've made it my mission for quite some time. And your family, too. I do want to avenge them. But you have to understand that when I kill someone, I'll get to see that person's last moments before they go. That's the most satisfying revenge of all." He moved quickly then. His hands were tight on her shoulders, holding her in place. "What makes you think I want you to go?" he said quietly. "You think that's my only choice? You have no idea what my choice means." "You mean it doesn't make you weak?" she whispered. He nodded. "Yes." He wasn't far from the truth. He made her feel small and vulnerable and yet somehow powerful at the same time. Her heart began to thump so hard that she was sure he could hear it. It felt as if she was at the edge of an unknown precipice. A very deep abyss, and it was all her fault. She pulled free from his hold and walked to the door, but before she could reach it, he moved swiftly to intercept her. He was so close that she couldn't see more than his shirt and the shadow of his dark eyes. She wasn't sure that she wanted to see them just then. "I didn't ask to make you mine," he said. "I'm trying not to resent you. But it's so hard. I'm tired of wanting you. I'm tired of wanting anything." "So you've had a few drinks, and you don't know what you're saying. It's all right," she said quietly. "I'm the one who's making the choice. All I want is to get on with it." She went out of the room then, walking away from the window and out the front door and down the steps. When she was at the bottom, he followed her and stood at her side. But he didn't touch her or say anything else. The only sound was the crackle of the leaves in the breeze. When she walked into the kitchen, her mother was there with her father. Mr. and Mrs. Moulton were there too, and they had both been weeping. They got up at the sight of her. "Where have you been?" her mother asked. "Getting some air," she said. "The air in here is going to be a lot cleaner once we get rid of you." For a moment, the entire family gaped at her. Then her mother ran across the floor toward her and threw her arms around her. "Are you all right? I thought you were dead!" she said. "We didn't know what to do!" "I'm fine," she said as the tears came rushing back to her eyes. "I'm sorry, Mom." "It's all right," she said, pulling back to smile at her. "We're sorry too, and for a whole lot of reasons." She turned back to the old woman, who still looked uncertain. "I'm going to ask a favor of you. But it's up to you." "What can I do?" "We're going out to find our car," she said. "And the money. I don't think there are any other cars left in the parking lot, so we're going to have to go around to the exit and back down the road." "But the police will be watching," her father said. "That woman in the bar, she said that anyone who wanted to leave would be watched. We have to get out of here. You can see how worried they are. We don't have much time." "I think that's the plan," she said with a resigned smile. "I don't think they'll try to stop us." "We're leaving in five minutes," her mother said. "Okay, I'll go look out front. I'll tell you if it's clear. Mr. Blackman, can you ask that woman to be sure the car is where we parked it? We need it right now. It's our only hope of getting out of here." "I think so," the old woman said. "Good," Allyson said. "But we'll need another car if we're going to get to safety. My father and I will need to take that one. The man in the parking lot, he left his keys on the counter." "We'll get it running," her father said. "Don't worry. But we do have to leave as soon as we can." Her mother was already walking toward the front door. She turned back to look at Allyson. "They really took your things," she said. "My notebook and my knife are in my bag," she said, putting an arm around her. "I'll leave them in the car for now. They probably have some men guarding it. But I'll come back and get them. Everything else is in my backpack." "We'll get it," her father said. "I don't know how we could miss it." Her mother had disappeared into the foyer and down the hall. When she came back, she was wearing a jacket over her nightgown. "We're going to have to break out of here before dawn," she said. "What about your father?" Allyson asked. "Can't he stay? They could be watching him." Her mother shook her head. "I've already talked to him. He says he's going to hide until they leave. He knows what he has to do." Her father gave her a weary smile. "There's no telling what she's talked him into," he said. "It's better that way. If they find out he's still here, they'll kill him. We're lucky to get out of here alive." The woman who had given them the keys brought them out, and she handed them to Allyson without a word. She hurried out to the car and got in. She was startled by the sight of Nick sitting in the passenger seat. He was pale and had a haunted look in his eyes, but his hands weren't shaking. She got out and joined him. "We need to get the spare keys," he said quietly. "I want to take your car." "You're sure you want to go with them?" she asked. "I have my own reasons." He got the keys out of the ignition, and she got in.