“I… I’m sorry.” The adrenaline in her body was beginning to fade, and the exhaustion of the night, along with the tremendous fright she had suffered, brought on such a great weakness that she had to grab one of the walls to keep from falling. “It’s just that Jimena told me you had been shot, so I ran here.” Sara did not look at anyone while speaking—not Emiliano, not Lara, not anyone. She focused on a fixed point on the tile floor, feeling stupid. Everyone had seen the terrible desperation with which she had entered the room, the force with which she had embraced Emiliano. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to know how you were.”“Well, the truth is I’m fine,” Emiliano commented. Sara felt the man’s voice different, calmer, almost like the old Emiliano. “My car is armored, so the assassins fired but couldn’t do anything. They tried to open the doors but couldn’t manage it. They had no choice but to leave, so I called an ambulance and the police. But I’m fine, it’s just a few bruises and two st
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