We hustled down the hall. Deeps opened the safe room, and got us inside. "I'll remain with the vice president while you address the threat," he told the Secret Service. I heard Deeps give them a communications channel to use, and a code for the door, but not the same one he taught me.

Deeps suspects them?

The fluorescent lights slowly brightened, their light intensified by the brushed-steel walls. Hawkins and Jouvert looked at each other, and I realized how much Jouvert loathed us. It was almost perverse that we were locked up together in a small steel room when Jouvert would probably celebrate if Hawkins was taken out, and vice versa.

"I apologize for the lack of comfortable seating," Hawkins told the VP. "We can sit on the supply cases if you like."

Jouvert waved him off. "We won't be here for long."

Deeps worked the control panel by the door and activated the screen in the back corner. Surveillance monitors showed agents directing guests off the terrace, and crowding them into the indoor pool room.

The big, black plastic cases holding emergency supplies that had been stacked under the screen had been moved over to the other corner.

"How about some water?" Hawkins asked Jouvert.

"Sure." He watched the surveillance screen while Hawkins fiddled with the lock on one of the black cases. "The combination doesn't work," Hawkins muttered. I was focused on the screen, too, when I heard Deeps say, "Mr. Vice President, you need to get down on your knees."

I spun around. Deeps was pointing a gun at Jouvert's face.

"f.u.c.k off," Jouvert answered.

I saw him shift his stance. Jouvert was taller than Deeps, and I wondered if he was just crazy enough to rush him.

"Deeps," Hawkins said, quietly. "What are you doing?"

"On your knees, sir," Deeps repeated to Jouvert, his eyes never leaving Jouvert's face.

Jouvert smirked as he lowered himself to the floor.

My legs trembled. I was too terrified to move. I wished I knew what Hawkins was thinking, but he was honed in on Deeps.

"Hands on your head," Deeps ordered.

Jouvert placed his hands on his head, but he stood straight and as tall as he could even though he was on his knees. "Kill me, and you will not leave this room alive."

"Acknowledged."

"What's your goal, soldier? You were a soldier, right?"

"Yes, sir. Marine Corps."

"What do you hope to accomplish today? What is your mission? Get your name in the history books?"

"Not at all, sir. My goal is justice."

"That's not your job. That's the job of the courts."

"Unfortunately, I cannot rely on the courts to bring you to justice. You betrayed your country when you sold it to a foreign power."

Jouvert shook his head. "I saved our country, soldier."

"I cannot allow a traitor to become commander in chief."

I saw a calm, almost peaceful expression come over Deeps' face, and I knew. "No!" I cried.

Bam!

The sound almost knocked me into the wall. Blood sprayed across the shiny steel, and Jouvert hit the floor face-first.

I screamed, my hands flapping uselessly. Oh G.o.d! Deeps just killed the vice president. He shot Jouvert.

Hawkins clamped his hand over his arm and blood streamed through his fingers. The bullet that hit Jouvert must have pa.s.sed through him and then ricocheted.

Deeps turned to us, his gun hand still raised.

"No, Deeps!" I begged as Hawkins moved in front of me.

"Deeps, let's find a way out of this mess," Hawkins said quietly.

"It's too late for that."

Jouvert's body lay between Deeps and us, and one of Jouvert's hands seemed to reach for Hawkins' foot.

"Please move to the right, Mr. Hawkins. You saw how, at this distance, a bullet can go completely through a body."

A look pa.s.sed between Hawkins and Deeps, and Hawkins moved toward the far wall.

What? What's going on? I looked to Hawkins for some clue.

"Now kneel," Deeps said, "with your hands on your head."

My heartbeat pounded in my ears as I realized, There's no way out. This is the end.

Hawkins lowered himself to the floor where a red pool of blood haloed Jouvert. I began to kneel, too, but then I saw Hawkins shake his head at me.

"Not you, Avie," Deeps said.

I stood there, confused and disoriented, the front of my white dress splattered with brilliant droplets of blood.

"Tell me the combination, Avie," Deeps said.

The door code? My mind was a blank. "I don't remember."

"Sure you do. You said it five times today."

I swallowed, and pulled the numbers from the corner of my brain.

Then Deeps took his phone out and tossed it to me. "My confession. It clearly states I acted alone."

I closed my hand around the phone, and the truth of what was about to happen slammed me: I am the only person who's leaving this room. Hawkins is going to die.

"No, Deeps. Stop," I said. "Please don't kill him."

"He's a lying, scheming Paternalist politician, and I'm sick of watching him treat you like c.r.a.p."

"But he-"

Hawkins cut me off. "Avie, don't try-"

"Shut up, Mr. Hawkins." Deeps kept his gun trained on Hawkins, but he looked at me. "I don't have sympathy for men who hit women."

I had Hawkins' life in my hands. "Yes, he hit me, but he apologized, and he hasn't hit me since."

"If he hit you once, he'll do it again. He'll abuse you and he'll do the same to this country."

"No, he wants to reform the Paternalists. We had a long talk last night-you saw us out on the terrace-and he told me his ideas."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the video screen and the agents in the hall outside, trying to reach us. If I could only stall Deeps, keep him talking.

"Jouvert is dead, Deeps," I pleaded. "And soon Fletcher and the rest of the Gang of Twelve will be gone, too. Jessop Hawkins can turn the Paternalists around."

Deeps' mouth twitched, but he kept his gun aimed at Jessop.

"You should put Aveline in the bathroom," Hawkins said. "The steel can protect her if your bullet ricochets."

Deeps nodded. "He's right. Go in the bathroom, Avie."

As soon as I did, he would shoot Hawkins and then himself. I shook my head. "No."

"Avie, go in the bathroom," Hawkins ordered.

"No." I kneeled down next to Hawkins, and looked Deeps in the eyes. "Please don't kill him. Too many people have died."

"You'll be free, Avie. You won't have to put up with his s.h.i.t any longer."

I swallowed. "Please put the gun down."

Deeps began to lower the gun, but before I could even blink, he shoved it up under his chin and fired.

50.

Someone brought me clothes.

The door of Hawkins' office was shut, but the ringing in my ears made it hard for me to hear the officer taking my statement. Across the room, another officer interviewed Hawkins and a paramedic st.i.tched his arm.

"Ms. Reveare, what happened after Mr. Talcott put the gun to his head?"

I flinched as a flock of paper napkins flew past the window. "Jessop Hawkins and I unlocked the door."

I kept the rest to myself: me trying to step over Jouvert, and my shoe slipping in his blood, then my tumbling onto his still warm body. And then crawling off Jouvert and over Deeps, while I forced myself not to look at the b.l.o.o.d.y mess that used to be Deeps' face or the clots and splatter on the wall behind his head.

I wrapped the string of my hoodie around and around my finger. "Are we done?"

"Just one more question. We've talked to the members of your immediate staff, but we haven't been able to locate Sigmund Rath. When did you last see him?"

"A few minutes before the ceremony. He helped me get ready."

"Hmm. Yes, well, those are all the questions we have right now, but we'd like you to remain here for the time being."

"Okay." I stared at the floor, trying not to show how I felt. Helen must have known what Deeps planned to do. Fragments of scenes and conversations from the last few weeks flew through my head, and I realized: Helen wasn't surprised or innocent. She'd been in on it with Deeps from the very beginning. In fact, Deeps might even have been the one who brought her into Hawkins' circle.

And I could never tell anyone what I knew. Anyone.

Outside Hawkins' office, the house echoed with the sounds of footsteps, phones, and people talking into communicators. I wondered if Dad was still here. Police were questioning guests in the party tent then releasing them, and I hoped I could see him if he was.

First, the paramedic packed his bag, and then the officer questioning Hawkins got up and walked out behind him.

Hawkins came over to the couch where I was sitting. The sleeve had been cut off his blue shirt, and his wound was wrapped with gauze.

"You could have been free," he said, lowering himself beside me. Flecks of blood dotted his shirt, his neck, and his left cheek near his hair.

I shrugged. "Not that way. That's not being free."

"I was so angry when you didn't sign the Contract," he said, shaking his head. "Here I was in front of hundreds of people I needed to impress, and you showed me once again that I did not own you." He laughed to himself. "And then you saved me."

"I couldn't let Deeps kill you."

"A few nights ago, I said we could have a life together if you'd give up your undying devotion to Yates Sandell, and you told me 'that's not how love works.' That's not how love works."

I didn't know where Hawkins was going with this. "Jessop, I-"

"He's been waiting by the gate for hours, Avie. He told Adam he wouldn't leave until he knew you were safe. I think you need to go to him."

"O-kay?" This was Hawkins' way of thanking me, I guessed, giving me a face-to-face with Yates. I started to unfold myself from the couch. "I won't be long."

He stood up. "No, Avie, you need to be with him. All the Contracts in the world couldn't change that." Hawkins let the forever sink in.

"Are you setting me free?"

"Some would argue you did that yourself." He leaned over and helped me to my feet.

My head swam, wondering if this was real or some kind of bizarre test, but then Hawkins plucked his baseball cap off the shelf and handed it to me. "Here. The media are out in droves. Good-bye, Avie."