Evan awoke after another fitful night, having slept very little.
As he sat up, he touched the bandage on his left side and found it dry, with no additional blood loss. It looked as if Diego had done an adequate job.
Looking in the mirror, he saw that his facial damage was mostly healed, but now he had a new injury that set him back. This was another reminder of his failures, and his self-hatred returned.
He headed to the kitchen, took a granola bar from a box on the counter, sat at his dining room table, and began unwrapping it.
There was a spiral-bound notebook on the table, and he looked through it, checking out the addresses of possible targets he’d identified over the last few weeks. He’d spent dozens of hours watching homes, looking for the right locations. There were seven new ad
