Darien I pulled the black car into the underground parking garage beneath our apartment building. The engine died, and the cold quiet of the concrete garage filled the car. Rain was pouring hard outside, echoing down the air vents. I looked over at Nilah. She sat quietly in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead at the blank grey wall. "We don't have to stay here tonight, Nilah," I said softly. "We can drive to a hotel downtown. We can stay anywhere you want." "No," Nilah said, her voice small but steady. "This is our home, Darien. We have spent three years running away from it. If we go to a hotel, we are just hiding again. We need to do this." I reached over and squeezed her hand. Her skin was cool, but her grip was firm. "Okay," I said. "Then we go up together." We got out of the car and walked to the private elevator at the end of the parking bay. I pressed the top button, and the heavy doors slid shut. The elevator rose quickly toward the penthouse. When the silver do
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