Tillman's expression hardened instantly and he set his drink down. "The president knows that much. I took care of it. We still need facts. We need a name." Tillman had already been briefed about the FBI raid in Virginia, but not on the latest developments. Cormorant quickly brought him up to speed, including the cameras found at the sex club.

"No one's talking specifically about Zeus yet, but if any recordings happen to be found, it won't matter what he calls himself."

"When did this come out?" Tillman asked. He seemed visibly shaken now.

"Today. This afternoon."

"And how do you know about it already?"

Cormorant maintained eye contact with the VP, and also what he hoped was a discernibly respectful silence.

"Right," Tillman said. "Never mind. Go on, please. Sorry I interrupted you."

"It's actually the attorney general who might be able to do something about this. If there were any manageable pretense for sidelining the investigation or even slowing it down -"

Suddenly Tillman seemed angry, but it was always hard to tell with him.

"Hang on right there. You want the president to lean on the AG? Do you even know what you're suggesting? A Cabinet member could be involved."

"It's not about what I want, sir. This has always been about protecting President Vance and this administration."

A burst of laughter came from just beyond the foyer-side door. Cormorant didn't waver, except to lower his voice a notch.

"I'm not suggesting we try to bury this scandal. I just need a little space to see if we can find out who Zeus is. If I can do that, then the White House will be in a better position to control the information when it comes out – and it is going to come out, sir, one way or another, sooner or later."

"What does Reese have to say about this?" Tillman asked. "You ask him? Does he know about the cameras?"

"I briefed the chief of staff this afternoon, but nothing was said about bringing everything to the president. I wanted to speak with you first."

"Don't play me against him, Dan. And don't play me against President Vance. The president has my complete loyalty."

"I'm not trying to, sir -"

"No. All right. Here's what you're going to do." Tillman had a way of shifting from inquiry to decision without warning, and it had just happened. "Talk to Gabe about this, and speak your mind with him. If he wants to bring it back to me, we'll go from there. Otherwise, you and I never had this conversation."

The vice president was already halfway to the door when Cormorant's voice rose for the first time.

"Walter!" It was the kind of protocol breach that could send an agent down the ranks fast, under most circumstances, anyway. "I can find him. Zeus. Just give me the time to do it."

Tillman stopped, but he didn't turn around. "Talk to Gabe" was all he would say, and when he continued out of the room, Agent Cormorant had no choice but to follow.

The conversation was over, and the crab was getting cold in the other room.

I RAN MY siren all the way across the Potomac and into the city until I was parked in the lot outside St. Anthony's Hospital. My mind hadn't stopped racing since I'd heard Bree's voice mails. How could this have happened? Just this morning, Nana had been sitting up; she'd been talking to us; she'd been getting better.

When I got off the elevator on six, the first familiar face I saw was Jannie's. She was parked on the edge of one of the molded plastic chairs just outside the ICU. When she saw me, she ran into my arms and held me tight.

"Nana's in a coma, Daddy. They don't know if she's going to wake up or not."

"Shhh. I know, I know. I'm here now." I felt her go from stiff to limp as the tears started. Jannie was so strong and so fragile at the same time. Just like Nana, I couldn't help thinking as I held her. "Have you seen her?" I asked.

She nodded against my chest. "Only for a minute or so. The nurse told me I had to wait out here."

"Come on," I said, taking her hand. "I think I need you for this."

We found Bree sitting next to Nana's bed, in the same chair I'd slept in the night before. She got up and put her arms around both of us.

"I'm so glad you're here," she whispered.

"What happened?" I whispered back. In case Nana could hear, I suppose.

"Her kidney function just spiraled, Alex. They have her on dialysis now, and she's back on the hydralazine, the beta blockers…"

I could barely hear Bree's words, or sort out their meaning. My legs were weak, my head spinning in fast little circles.

Nothing could have prepared me for how much worse Nana looked.

She was on the ventilator again, this time with a tracheotomy right into her throat. There was a feeding tube in her nose now, and the dialysis too. But the worst by far was Nana's face – all pinched and drawn down, like she was in pain. I had thought she would just look asleep, but it was much worse than that.

I squeezed in to sit by her. "It's Alex. I'm here now. It's Alex, old woman."

I felt as if I were on the opposite side of a thick piece of glass from Nana. I could talk to her and touch her and see her, but I couldn't actually reach her, and it was the most helpless sensation I'd ever known. I had this terrible sick feeling that I knew what was coming next.

I'm usually good in a crisis – it's what I do for a living – but I was barely holding it together. When Jannie came over to stand beside me, I didn't bother to try and hide the tears coming down my cheeks.

This wasn't just happening to Nana. It was happening to all of us.

And as we sat there watching Nana, a tear ran down her cheek.

"Nana," we all said at once. But she didn't speak back to us or even try to open her eyes.

There was just that single tear.

WHEN I WASN'T sleeping that night, or getting out of the nurses' way every few hours while they checked their patient, I was talking to Nana. At first, I stuck to the soft stuff – how much we loved her, how much we were pulling for her, and even just what was going on in the room.

But eventually it sank in for me that all Nana ever wanted was the truth, whatever that happened to be. So I started to tell her about my day. Just like we had always talked, never thinking about the reality that our talks would have to end eventually.

"I had to kill someone today," I said.

It seemed like there should have been more to say about that, once I'd said it out loud, but I just sat there quietly. I guess this was where Nana was supposed to come in.

And then she kind of did – a memory, anyway, from an earlier time when we had a similar conversation.

Did he have a family, Alex?

Nana had asked me that before anything else. I was twenty-eight at the time. It was an armed robbery, at a little grocery store in Southeast. I wasn't even on duty when it happened, just on my way home. The man's name, I'll never forget, was Eddie Clemmons. It was the first time anyone had ever shot at me, and the first time I'd ever fired in self-defense.

And yes, I told Nana, he had a wife, though he didn't live with her. And two children.

I remember standing there in the front hall on Fifth Street with my coat still on. Nana had been carrying a basket of wash when I came in, and we ended up sitting down on the stairs, folding clothes and talking about the shooting. I thought it was strange at first, how she kept handing me things to fold. Then, after a while, I realized that at some point, my life would start to feel normal again.

You're going to be fine, she had said to me. Maybe not quite the same, but still, just fine. You're a police officer.