Two dark figures stood in the gazebo, huddled and backlit by a single street lamp. She approached with heavy feet. Her stomach began to rise again, but she swallowed and forced bravery. For Willem. For the men who wanted him dead.

Withdrawing the money had been easier than she’d expected. At her meeting that afternoon with Mr. Fluckiger, he hadn’t even batted an eye when she requested the withdrawal. Inside she panicked, but on the outside she acted as the cool, stiff businesswoman Mr. Vanderzee always requested she be. She had it all planned out. Over the coming months, she would slowly refill Mr. Vanderzee’s third account with her own income and Mr. Vanderzee would be none the wiser. It had stupid written all over it, and she deserved to be put away. In fact, she expected it, mentally prepared herself for it. In some ways, going to prison would be best. That way, her internal commitment to remove herself from Willem’s life after tonight would be easier to keep.

She recognized Willem as the hunched figure in the gazebo. They turned to her and he released a nervous breath, running a hand over his head that still managed to glisten. “Beth, I knew you’d come.” He turned to the Hispanic man who looked more like a boy than a man, head shaved and mustache thin. “I told you she’d come.”

Elizabeth took the steps that put her under the gazebo’s roof. Her hands were in her sweater pockets and her hood over her head. She sweltered inside it, yet felt too exposed. “Why this place?” she asked, directing her question at the man she assumed was Juan. “Why here?”

Juan shrugged, lifting his chin. He wore a white t-shirt and black baggy pants, and above his ear a tattoo she couldn’t decipher. “It’s beautiful,” he said. “I know my man, Will, loves it here.” He wrapped his arm around Willem, making him cower. “Ain’t that right, Will? Good memories with your sis?”

“Let’s get this over with,” she said. It wouldn’t be long before a cop or security guard would be patrolling the area.

“Your bro told me all about you,” Juan continued, stepping closer. “That you’re a do-gooder. So I don’t think you have it in you.”

She briefly glanced at Willem before meeting Juan’s black eyes. The streetlamp gave his face a putrid orange tint. “I have what you want.”

“Let’s see it.”

“I don’t have it here,” she lied, the envelope burning a hole in her back. “I want your word he’ll be safe.” She looked at Willem, who appeared to be panicking at the direction this was headed. “And I want your word this is it. No more empty promises, Will. We’re leaving, far from here.”

“Beth—”

“See, Beth,” Juan cut in, now putting his arm around her own shoulders. Surprisingly, all she smelled on him was cologne. The expensive-smelling kind. “I don’t think I can let you take my boy Will here. He may be used up, but he’s my best boy. He’s got hookups—”

“That’s the deal,” she insisted, keeping her steely eyes on his. “I get my brother, you get your money.”

Juan laughed. “Beth, Beth, Beth. I need Will. You know why I need Will? I need him because he needs you. And for all this unnecessary grief you’re giving me, I’m upping the price.”

Will shook his head as though he’d expected it, and Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed. “Like hell you are. I have what you asked for, far more than he owes you. That’s all you’re getting.” She grabbed Will’s hand, which resisted. “Will, let’s get out of here.”

In a quick movement, Juan pulled a hefty-looking gun from behind his back, at least a .40 caliber. He pointed it at her and she let go of Will’s hand. “Will, tell her what you told me,” he said, locking eyes with her.

“I—I…”

“Fine, I’ll tell her for you. Your brother sold you out, sis. See, just minutes before you got here, we were discussing our deal. He said you’re sitting fat with the rich man. I don’t think you have the stones to steal from him, but he says you’d do anything for him. Isn’t that right, Will?”

Elizabeth only swallowed. She wasn’t sure what he was getting at.

Juan chuckled. “He promised me you’d have the money here. But you don’t. And I hate”—he blinked heavily for emphasis—“being lied to, sis.”

“Juan,” Will jumped in, lifting his hands. “Just put the gun down, man. I told you she’s good for it.”

“You also told me she could get more.”

Elizabeth’s eyes shot to her brother. “What?”

Juan’s brow lifted in amusement. “He said we could make some kind of business deal. It’s simple. You pay me the hundred, plus a decent monthly fee, and I let Will here off his debts.”

Elizabeth ground her teeth. When she took another step, Juan shoved the barrel into her chest. In that moment, the gun meant nothing. “Who the hell do you think you are? God? He will be cleared of his debts with the money I have.”

“Oh, now you have it?” His eyes scanned her deliberately. “Where, sis?” He reached a greedy hand to her hip and felt up her ribs. The corner of his mouth twitched. “Here?”

She hit his hand away.

“Beth, just agree to the deal,” Will said. “I promise I’ll—”

“No more promises, Will!” In the distance, behind Juan, headlights appeared. She looked back to Juan. “You’ll get the money you wanted, but nothing more. It’s all I can get. But I won’t get it for you until you agree to leave it at that”

Juan stepped back and lowered the gun. He studied her, shifting his jaw, and for a hopeful moment, she actually thought he would accept her offer. But then, in an unfitting calmness, he said, “You didn’t come with the money, like you agreed. And now you think you can call the shots?” And before she even heard the last word, he lifted the gun and shot Willem in the chest. She jumped, feeling the vibration of the blast for what felt like hours.

She didn’t think it was real until Willem gasped and fell against the gazebo’s pillars. “Will!” she cried, catching him in her arms. The warp-warp of a police siren sounded somewhere in the distance, but she didn’t realize until later that it had come from the approaching vehicle she’d seen only seconds before, behind Juan. And if it wasn’t for that cop, she was sure Juan would have shot her next.

Instead he ran. Vaguely, she was aware of him cussing while leaping over the railing, just as the car flashing blue and red pulled sharply to the curb and two officers jumped out.

What happened in the background faded as Elizabeth fell to her knees and cradled Willem in her arms. He couldn’t inhale without choking and she laid his head in her lap. “Shh,” she hushed, holding one hand firmly on the hole in his chest and running her other over his moist, velvet-feeling head. “It’s all right. I’m here.” Her heart hammered at a rate she didn’t think was possible, making everything spin. Her stomach rose again, but she held it back. She had to be strong. Always strong.

“Beth,” he barely managed, that same panic in his eyes. Blood began pooling in the corners of his mouth and he coughed. The swelling in her chest began, telling her she was going to lose it—that she was going to explode from years of built-up tears. But a strange and almost maddening peace came over her instead, calming her. Calming her for Will. “Beth, I’m—”

“Shh.” Her voice cracked and she put more pressure on his chest, where blood appeared to drown them both. “I’m sorry, Will. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

“No one cou—” He choked on blood, coughing more into the air. “No one could save me.”

“Ma’am.” She twisted to find an officer.

“Get help!” she shouted at him.

“An RA unit’s already on its way.”

“Beth,” Willem started, bringing her eyes back to him. He blurred, but not from tears. Her head spun, viciously. “I know I never—” He couldn’t get anything out.

“Will, don’t talk, okay? Someone’s coming to help and you’ll be just fine. You need to save your breath. You need to be strong. For once, I need you to be strong for me. Can you do that?”