One week before the opening, Detective Morrison called.I was in the studio Alex had set up for me, sketching ideas for future work, when my phone rang. His name on the screen made my stomach clench with residual fear, even though I knew the immediate threats were gone."Ms. Carter, I have news," Morrison said without preamble. "Vanessa Martinez accepted the plea deal this morning. She pleaded guilty to all charges. The judge sentenced her to twenty-eight years without possibility of parole for the first fifteen."I sat down slowly, my legs suddenly unsteady. "Twenty-eight years.""With her prior record and the severity of the charges, the DA pushed for maximum sentencing. She will be fifty-two when she is eligible for parole. And given the evidence against her, the parole board is unlikely to grant it." Morrison paused. "It is over, Ms. Carter. Really over. She cannot hurt you anymore."After we hung up, I sat in the empty studio, trying to process what I felt. Relief, obviously. But
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