Antonia brought her heavy boot down on his hand. Bones cracked. Victor howled and dissolved into coughing. She bent over him with a cloth that smelled sharply of ether.
“Easy now,” she said. “We’re going to fix you up.” She pressed the cloth over his face. Victor thrashed and tried to bite, but he was no match for her.
Within a minute, his struggles weakened and his body went slack. He dropped into a deep drugged sleep. The smoke in the room was beginning to thin, but time was short.
Antonia took out her kit. There was no time for proper sterile prep. She cut open his trousers. “You were the leader, Victor,” she whispered.
“But you never did your thinking with your head.” She lifted the scalpel. This was more than a procedure. It was a sentence—symbolic, final, and irreversible.
She worked fast and rough, trying to finish before anyone burst in. Blood spread across the expensive carpet. “Gangrene removed,” Antonia said, placing the last stitch.
In the hallway came pounding feet and blows against the door. “Break it down!” shouted Rankin’s father. Antonia wiped her hands on the bedspread and ran to the window.
Below stood an old oak tree, its branches reaching close to the balcony. Before she disappeared, she looked once more at Victor. Pale, bleeding, alive. “Live with it,” she said.
The door burst inward and the guards rushed in. They saw the body, the blood, the open window. “She went out that way! Move!” the security chief shouted, firing into the dark.
Gunfire split the night, but the bullets hit nothing. Antonia had already slid down the tree trunk and was running for a gap in the fence. She ran over wet grass with dogs barking and sirens rising behind her.
It felt as though all of hell was after her. But she knew that if she made it to the river, she had a chance. She plunged into the freezing water to throw off the dogs. The current grabbed her and carried her downstream.
She swam and cried at the same time—tears not of grief now, but of release. The debt had been paid. Antonia dragged herself onto the bank just before dawn.
Soaked and shaking, she made it home while the town still slept. She opened the door quietly. The apartment smelled of medicine and silence. Eleanor was asleep…
