CHAPTER TEN
FABIANA RAN UNTIL SHE found a ladies room and yanked the door open, throwing herself inside and into the nearest stall. She retched until she had nothing left inside her to throw up.
Her knife. Her knife may have been used to hurt her brother. She sobbed and felt her stomach clench again. Swallowing down the saliva pooling in her mouth, she bent over and put her head between her knees, pulling air deeply and slowly into her lungs in an effort to quell the dizziness and nausea that threatened to swamp her.
Her knife.
From the pocket of her jeans, Fabiana’s cell phone chirped, announcing the arrival of a text message. She ignored it.
The door to the ladies room opened. “Fabiana? Are you okay?”
She stood up and flushed the toilet, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
