“There is no saving myself,” he whispered, his face turning pale in the yellow light. “We are the Thornes. We don’t beg.”

He raised the gun to Clara’s temple.

“I’m going to make you watch,” he said.

A loud crack shattered the damp air of the boat house.

Gareth gasped, his body jerking forward.

The revolver slipped from his fingers and clattered onto the wooden planks, rolling into the dark water of the canal.

Nora stood in the doorway, her service weapon raised, smoke curling from the barrel.

She had shot him in the shoulder.

Gareth collapsed sideways, clutching his arm and groaning as blood began to seep through his fingers.

I lunged forward, throwing my body over Clara and pulling her down to the wooden floor.

“I’ve got you,” I whispered, my tears finally breaking free as I worked at the knot behind her head. “I’ve got you, baby.”

I pulled the gag from her mouth, and she buried her face in my shoulder, sobbing violently.

“He was going to kill me, Mom,” she whispered, her body shaking against mine. “He was waiting for Julian’s call.”