“START WALKING,” VADA said, poking him in the shoulder with the gun.

“Think about what you’ve done for this man,” Whitt said, taking uneven steps forward in the dark. “You’ve killed two people. You’ve…you’ve impersonated a police officer. You’re going to…you’re…”

You’re going to kill me.

He couldn’t say the words. He swigged the bourbon.

“This isn’t you,” Whitt said. “You’ve made a mistake. Surely they told you this when you signed on to counsel convicted killers. Surely they told you how manipulative they can be, how seductive.”

He stumbled, fell on his hands. The bottle sloshed into the mud. She nudged him with her boot.

“Get up.”

Whitt looked around. There was nowhere to run, and he was too drunk to attempt it. If he sprinted away now, he’d fall helplessly, bash into trees, stagger unarmed until she found him and ended him. His only chance was to keep talking. It was so cold. His jacket was back at the crime scene. He gripped the bourbon bottle so hard, his knuckles ached. They walked in silence.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Whitt pressed on eventually. “He’s a dangerous animal. He’s clever. Cunning. Bad. But you understand him. Only you. And that makes you special. Of course it does. You understand the real Regan. That’s why you do what you do. Because you refuse to give up on them. The worst of the worst. Maybe…maybe someone refused to give up on you, and now…”

“Stop walking,” she said. “Get on your knees.”

“He’s not what you think he is.”

“I said kneel down!”

“There’s a part of you that’s not sure about this,” Whitt said. “You shot at Harry. Regan would never have allowed you to do that. Maybe you thought you could kill her, end Regan’s game. End it for him and you. Vada, there’s still a chance to—”

“It’s over, Whitt,” she said. “Please kneel.”

She clicked the hammer back on the pistol and pointed it at his face.

He knelt.

Whitt’s mind raced, new frantic arguments forming, but before he could voice them, the strange automatic impulse that he’d felt when he punched the officer on the bridge overtook him. He lunged at her legs.

The gun’s blast lit up the forest.