The slam of the bedroom door echoed in the small apartment, a final, brittle period to the night’s confrontation. In the sudden silence, Michael Helwart remained frozen in the chair at the dining table, the specter of Linsy’s tear-streaked face and her devastating, whispered plea...“I can’t do it!”...hanging in the air like gun smoke.

He couldn’t comprehend it. The stubborn, illogical, self-destructive refusal. What alchemy did that other man possess that she would chain herself to ...