63
Sara
I try to get Peter to rest, but he insists on making breakfast, and I’m too hungry to argue. He’s clearly feeling better today, his color back to its normal healthy hue and his movements only slightly stiff.
If I didn’t know he’d taken three bullets less than a week ago, I wouldn’t have believed it.
As we devour our omelets in the kitchen, I tell him about Nora and Rosa’s visit and the fact that I’d met them once, long before I knew him.
“Nora had miscarried?” he says, frowning, and I realize he must not have known about that.
“Yes. I’m guessing you’d left Esguerra’s employ by then?”
He nods. “I left right after I rescued him from the terrorist group that had captured him in Tajikistan. Remember how I told you he was pissed that I endangered his wife in the rescue? Well, she
