CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
Reid waded through darkness, impossibly slow. Maybe not moving at all—he had no limbs. He was disjointed from his body, somewhere in a black abyss. Or nowhere. There was no sound, no color. No feeling.
“Kent?”
A voice. Not far. He looked around—if there even was an around to see. It was a woman. It sounded almost like…
Kate? He tried to call out to her, but had no voice.
“Jesus, Kent…”
The voice again. Kate! He was sure of it.
A brilliant white light exploded above him. He couldn’t look directly at it, but he knew what it was.
“Stay with me, Kent!”
Kate. The light was a beacon. She was calling him home.
No, he realized—it couldn’t be. Kate didn’t know Kent. She knew Reid. Her husband, father of her children. Accessory to her murder.
The light went out. Then:
