CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Jessica
I turned to my neighbor with unfeigned panic. “This man’s having a heart attack!” Then I pushed through the crowd as fast as I could, hoping that no one had noticed me talking with Selby, who was now doubled over and possibly dying at their feet.
As I broke free of the masses, I heard a woman scream and a babble of voices. I struggled to maintain my composure and ignore the hysteria behind me.
I strode down the sidewalk, scanning for cabs. And cops. And men in trench coats. Men in black with sunglasses. Trench coats and sunglasses? Please. The killers probably wore jeans and T-shirts. The thought raised goose bumps. They could be anyone. Male, female. Anyone at all.
Standing at that curb, I felt as exposed as a target in an arcade game.
I spotted an available cab. My arm shot up, waving as if to a rescue ship from a desert island.
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