A ceiling tile popped open above Papai; electrical cords and wiring dropped—just in time to snare his neck!

I cried, “Papai!” I attacked the sparking wires, unraveling them to free him.

Pale with shock and confusion, he rubbed his throat. The building continued shaking, vibrations beneath our feet. “Just . . . just keep going! We won’t be safe till we’re on the ground.” He shoved me ahead of him. “Go!”

A few more flights down, another quake rocked us. This time the stairwell expanded with an eruption of wall fissures.

A piece of metal swung from the ceiling, arcing just past my ear. Sprinkler pipe? I turned back, saw it crash into the fire-extinguisher cabinet. The loosed extinguisher dropped directly on his foot.

The building seemed bent on destroying him!

“Porra,” he yelled in pain.

“Let me help you!”

Limping forward, he snapped, “Go.” He gritted his teeth, using one leg and the railing to hop down the stairs.

We descended dozens more flights without problems. Finally we reached the last one.

“We’re here!” Three steps from the bottom, I stopped to wait, keeping an eye on him above.

“I’m right behind you. Head for the safe—”

The railing broke loose, tumbling over. I screamed as he plummeted past me. The railing edge brushed my jacket, missing me by a whisper.

He landed on the steps with one leg tangled in the bars, groaning in pain.

I scrambled over to him. “Papai!”

His face was bloody, his eyes dazed. Blood seeped from his side, oozing down the steps. “Think I broke my leg.”

I strained to lift the railing. Too heavy. I attempted again, barely budging it. “You have to help me—we have to free you.”

“Zara, wh-when this attack ends, take the long-range copter. Fly north. Get to my brother in Texas.”

“I’m not leaving you!”

“The building will come down. Rescuers will find you. But it will be too late for me.”

“Don’t talk like that, Papai!”

His face was tense from pain. “I must confess to you. . . . I have robbed you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The Olivera clan. Bento Olivera found out something I’d done. . . . I-I wronged him first.”

“What did you do?” What could Papai have done to warrant my mother’s murder? I knelt beside him, impatient for his answer as he struggled to speak.

“They took your mother because . . . I kidnapped his wife years before.”

Olivera retaliated? “Why did you? For money?”

He nodded, then winced with pain. The rumors of Papai’s criminal background had been true. “The woman fought me . . . I didn’t mean . . . the gun went off. Bullet in her spine.”

The breath whooshed from my lungs. I’d thought Bento had selected Mamãe out of a thousand wealthy women in the city. I’d never been able to wrap my mind around the randomness—as if my mother had been betrayed by chance, as if her life had ended when her luck had run out.

But she’d been targeted. “Why would you let me hunt them? Without telling me?”

“I wanted to, so many times. But I didn’t want you to hate me. The lie took on a life of its own.”

This revelation stunned me as much as anything else I’d seen tonight. “I believed they’d taken her because they were greedy pigs!” And so I had gutted Bento’s sons like pigs. After I’d tortured them.

“No. Revenge.”

The Oliveras never would have stopped. Because of my father. Fury surged inside me. “You started this—because you were greedy. My mother is dead because of you! Her parents are dead because of you!”

“And I will go to hell for my sins.” Almost to himself, he said, “Parted from her forever.”

I still would have gone after the Oliveras, but I wouldn’t have toyed with them. That family had only been avenging a loved one.

As I had been. Their crime was the same as mine. “I wanted to punish the one responsible for her death.” My fists clenched. “Why should I not kill you?”

He murmured, “Think that will happen all on its own, daughter.”

Another quake. This one was louder and more intense than the previous ones—and it was mounting.

“Leave me,” Papai ordered. “Get to the safe room!”

The ground shook so hard, I tottered on my feet. I turned toward the exit, but the door wouldn’t open. The frame was skewed, wedging the door shut.

Stone cracked; metal groaned. I swallowed, gazing up the stairwell. The stairs swayed. Because the building was swaying.

It shifted side to side, more and more violently, until suddenly it wobbled and . . . dropped.

Oh, meu Deus, the entire fucking thing was coming down!

A cloud of dust and debris exploded downward like an avalanche. I hunched, covering my head.

Full dark.

As the rubble settled, stones knocked against each other. A stray crack! sounded. The air was thick with dust, my lungs filled with it.

“Papai?” I coughed and pulled my shirt over my face, breathing through the fabric. “Papai, answer me.”

Nothing. I fished my phone out of my pocket and clicked on the flashlight. I gaped at what I saw.

Rubble had piled up all around me—even above me—a perfect cocoon.

Except for the sole rock that had breached it.

The one that had bashed in my father’s head.