The corridor seemed narrower than it really was. Gabriela walked hurriedly, clutching a stack of papers to her chest that barely made sense—it was just a disguise to keep her hands busy, so no one would notice the tremor that insisted on running through her fingers. Since the near-accident that almost gave them away, her heart hadn't returned to its normal rhythm.

She tried to maintain her composure, but inside her a whirlwind grew. Guilt, fear, and something even more dangerous: her ...