Her face was bruised, her hair matted with melting snow, but her eyes went wide when she saw him.

“Eli!” she screamed.

She started to run toward him, her bound hands awkward against her chest.

But from behind the crushed front bumper of the SUV, a shadow rose.

Kane was on his feet, his face covered in blood from the airbag deployment.

He had a small silver revolver in his right hand.

He did not look at the police.

He did not look at me.

His eyes were fixed entirely on the woman running across the snow.

“If I lose everything,” Kane muttered, his voice carrying over the wind, “you don’t get to keep her.”

He raised the silver barrel, aligning the sights with Rachel’s back.

I did not have time to aim.

I did not have time to think.

I threw my weight forward, pushing Isabella and Eli down behind the concrete pillar.

I raised my own weapon and fired three times toward the shadow by the SUV.

The muzzle flashes lit up the snowy dark, a series of bright yellow bursts.