for the documents Beverly had prepared for his commitment. Even if he’d silenced Nick and Beverly, the paperwork could still speak. It would incriminate him. Unless he destroyed it.

I hugged Molly and the wall, listening, waiting for Woods to find the open briefcase under the desk. Then there was an audible pause. A silence. Then footsteps clacked beside the desk. The desk near the window. The open window. Beside which we huddled, shivering in the snow.

SIXTY-SIX

I DIDN’T DARE LOOK. I HELD MY BREATH, SQUEEZING MOLLY. Had Woods seen the window? Noticed the chair beneath it? I waited, expecting him to pop out after us. But he didn’t. Maybe he was so intent on finding the papers that he couldn’t notice anything else. Or maybe not.

I looked around the courtyard, up at the windows. Maybe someone would look out, see us, and get help. Or maybe the police would come to the rescue and find us before we froze to death.

Maybe. But neither was likely. I had to get us out of there myself. Fast.

The fence offered no advice. Its barbs snarled. The brown brick walls yawned, old and indifferent. Molly’s whole body was shaking. I rubbed her legs and arms with icy hands.

“Here. Stand here,” I whispered, pressing her against the wall, sheltering her from the wind with my body. Distraught, desperate, I leaned my head back, closed my eyes, and tried to think. No luck. No inspiration. When I opened my eyes, I saw a window just above us, on the first or second floor. It was half open, smiling a half smile. Mocking? Or inviting? It didn’t matter. Either way, it was too high. I stood on my toes and reached up. The open window was about two feet beyond my grasp. Not quite close enough.

“Molly, help me. Make a hill.”

She didn’t say a word. Didn’t ask a question. Jaw rattling, she knelt beside me, depositing snow in a pile. Quietly, quickly, we used our arms to plow snow into a mound against the wall. My hands were frozen, burning, numb; Molly’s must be, too. Frozen or not, we shoved piles of snow against the building, packing it down into a solid hill. I raced, afraid Woods would turn and look outside, alarmed by the commotion of snow or the huffing of breath.

In seconds, we’d built a small mountain of snow, adding the two feet I needed to reach the open window. I stepped onto it and looked up. Molly watched, silent and pale. The only sound was the wind. On my toes again, I reached numb fingers up and touched the windowsill. If I could lift Molly up, she could slide inside.

“Molly,” I whispered, “I’ll lift you. Then boost yourself up through the window. As if you’re at gym, swinging up onto the high bar. Got it?”

She nodded.

“Ready?”

She nodded again. Nick’s blood had crusted on her cheeks, and her skin was fading, becoming colorless. I grabbed her, hefted her up over my head. Too fast. Too much momentum. Something—maybe her head—thunked the wall.

“Oh God. Sorry—Molly? You okay?”

She made no sound, didn’t cry out, said nothing. I could feel her regaining her balance, though. She didn’t weigh even fifty pounds, but holding her up over my head with numb hands wasn’t easy. “Can you reach it?” I whispered.

She didn’t answer, but suddenly her legs kicked my shoulders, pushing off, and her weight lifted as she sprang upward, knocking me backward into the snow. Looking up, I saw her hips disappear over the windowsill, feet flying behind her through the opening. Just like in gymnastics. She was in.

My turn. I got up, brushed myself off, stood against the wall, reached up, puffed and cursed. I could reach the windowsill, even grab it, but hanging there, I couldn’t get leverage to lift myself. I’d need to build up the snow, make the hill higher. I let go and dropped to the ground, banging the drainpipe as I fell. Damn. Had Woods heard?

I stood still, listening, hearing footsteps. The scraping of a chair. A dark wig appeared at the window. A hand, a pink sleeve reached out. Woods had heard, yes. And he was climbing out.

SIXTY-SEVEN

I DIDN’T DARE LOOK AT HIM. TERRIFIED, I LOOKED AROUND, searching for an escape. But there was none. Only brick walls. Desperately, I eyed the drainpipe, the wall, the window above, and knew what I had to do.

Thrusting my foot up, I secured my boot between the drainpipe and the bricks, then grabbed a hunk of