Luca looked at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of pity and relief, before he quietly slipped out of the room.

Vance followed him, closing the double doors behind them.

I was left alone with Marcus.

The radiator hissed against the cold, a steady, rhythmic sound that seemed to measure the passing seconds.

“Are you going to stay?” Marcus asked, still looking out at the snow.

“I don’t think I can,” I said.

My hand rested on my stomach, where I could feel the faint, rhythmic pulse of our unborn child.

I thought of the brochures hidden in my vanity downstairs, the pictures of the bright, sun-drenched coast of San Diego.

I wanted blue water, warm sand, and a life where the name Vale meant nothing to anyone.

“You deserve a quiet life,” Marcus said, his shoulders rising and falling with a deep breath.

“And you?” I asked.

“I will do my time,” he said. “Then I will start over. From a distance.”

He turned to face me, his hands deep in his coat pockets.