The door clicked shut. Rafael's footsteps faded down the hall. I stood there frozen, his words echoing in my head.

"He hired the hitman who shot you."

My legs gave out. I slid down the wall until I hit the floor, hands trembling so hard I tucked them between my knees.

It couldn't be true. It just couldn't.

But the pieces lined up too easily.

I lifted my shirt. The pale, puckered scar sat there like a quiet accusation. I touched it, remembering the sting of antiseptic, the cold air of the ...