Chapter Twenty-Six

AT THE BLIND end of the path, Julia lay still. Martin stood over her, gun in hand, barrel pressed against Julia’s forehead. Nüwa inhaled sharply. Julia’s leg twitched. She was alive. There was time.

Nüwa ran toward them. Her rage coalesced into razor sharp purpose. Her hands ached where she gripped the shovel. When Nüwa was in striking distance, she slowed her steps and tightened her grip on the wet handle. She set her feet wide. One swing. One chance to end it. Forever.

“Martin, dear. Wait. I have something to tell you.”

He looked toward her, a puzzled expression on his face. The barrel of the gun drifted away from Julia’s forehead.

“I’m. Not. Natalie.” Nüwa swung the shovel with everything she had. Her grief for Jane, her rage, her fear, her hatred toward Martin, and all her love for Julia, powered her swing. The flat of the blade caught his chin, lifted his feet from the ground. He fell over backward and lay still.

Nüwa lifted the shovel again, lining the sharp edge up with his throat. One hard chop and it would be over.