COLD METAL PRESSED INTO HIS TEMPLE. Derek tried to shout, but Blake put him in a chokehold with his left arm with such force it might break his neck if he struggled.

Sabine bolted to her feet. “Blake, no!”

He pointed the gun at her.

Then at Mom, whose eyes remained trained on him like a bird of prey’s.

Right away, he put the muzzle back into Derek’s temple.

“Stop it, Blake!” Sabine said. “That’s my brother…and she’s my mother”

“You sure?” His words came out like sandpaper scraping against concrete. He coughed, then cleared his throat. “They’re not like…like them?”

Derek could barely suck in a breath.

He was going to black out.

Sabine held out her hand. “Give me the gun, Blake. Please.”

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