Ren was standing next to the couch where Jane sat; she had a look of calm, almost serene, acceptance on her face.

A half-empty glass of champagne sat on the table in front of her. Ren kept a firm look on his face.

“Jane,” the detective called out, his weapon still raised, but his voice was softer.

“It’s over,” he said.

Jane met his gaze directly, a small, knowing smile on her lips.

She gently stood up, her movements graceful and unhurried.

“I ...