Wordlessly, Sophia stepped back to let the F.B.I. Agent inside, shutting the door behind him, still making sure to flip the locks. Mike Travers watched her actions carefully, not giving anything away by his expression.

They stood across from each other, each sizing the other up. Sophia waited. He came to her, he would speak first.

"I imagine you have questions," Travers said.

"I imagine you also have questions," Sophia said. "Why are you here, Agent Travers?"

"You don't know?"

"I have my suspicions." Sophia sighed and broke her steady gaze, going to the island in the kitchen and sinking onto one of the bar stools. "But if those are correct, then why are you here, now? Why not earlier?"

Travers pointed to the stool across from Sophia, and she nodded. "Your 9-1-1 call," he said. "That's why I'm here."

Sophia pinched her eyebrows together. "You're monitoring my phone calls?" she asked doubtfully.

"No," Travers said. "We're monitoring 9-1-1 calls. We set up an automatic flag for if you call, anyone mentions Dempsey, that sort of thing."

Sophia nodded. "So that was him?" she confirmed. She jerked her head toward the window. "Graham?"

Travers nodded.

"And he's the one who's been going around murdering these women? Putting that necklace around their neck?"

Again, Travers shook his head in confirmation.

"And you knew about me? My connection to him?"

"Yes."

Sophia wiped her palms on her pants and stood up, feeling her anger spring up in tears at the corners of her eyes, her breath growing shakier with each inhale. "Then what the hell took you so long?" she asked, standing up and pacing in front of the agent. "Why the hell didn't you come and tell me earlier?"

Agent Travers sat perfectly still, following her movements with her eyes, unfazed by her sudden onslaught of emotion. "Why didn't you say anything?" he countered. "You had your suspicions."

Sophia gaped at him. "You're not seriously blaming me?" she spat at him. "What was I supposed to say? 'Hi 9-1-1 operator, I have no proof but I think my ex-boyfriend is a serial killer and he's out to get me?'"

"You could have."

Sophia decided she wanted to strangle Mike Travers. "Maybe I would have felt more empowered to speak up if I knew my suspicions weren't completely nuts."

"Ms. Shelby, are you aware that the restraining order you have against him wasn't properly filed?"

Sophia's pacing stopped short and she stared at Travers with an open mouth. "What?"

"The restraining order you filed. It never actually went through; there was a mistake on the form."

Sophia's mind whirled. "No," she finally said. "I didn't know that. I was under the assumption that I had one against him this entire time."

"Not that, when it comes to Dempsey, that particularly matters," Travers acknowledged. "I'm willing to bet he would have come after you, either way. But to some at the bureau, that particular detail was essential."

"Why?"

Now, Travers paused. "The team working on this case was split," he finally said, his words delicate. "Some believed that it was simply a coincidence, a clerical error, as happens all the time in bureaucracy. Others, however, speculated as to whether or not you had anything to do with it, and whether you ever wanted a restraining order at all."

Deathly silence fell. "So you're telling me," Sophia said lowly, her voice low with anger bubbling up like lava just below the surface, "that you work with some idiots who believe that I'm, what, I'm helping him? I've been in contact with him ever since our 'breakup?' That the whole thing was for show so I could help him, help him do what, exactly?"

Travers's calm demeanor infuriated her. "We were unable to track Dempsey's movements for several years," he told her. "He popped back up about a year ago, but besides that, he's been completely off the grid. Which means, he could have been in L.A. as much as any other place. Yes, there were those who believed that you had kept in contact over the years and could potentially be an accomplice."

Sophia couldn't believe what she was hearing. It made her sick to her stomach. "Do you even know what he did?" she asked coldly.

"We know what was on the restraining order."

"So you know about the physical abuse," Sophia said, her voice dripping with ice. "But the years of mental abuse? Of how he used my dad's death to emotionally manipulate me into staying with him?"

Agent Travers regarded her silently.

"And you thought, what, that was all a lie? That I went to the E.R. for a CT scan to make sure he didn't give me a concussion just for kicks? That I went to therapy for years for funsies?"

"Ms. Shelby, I understand you're upset."

Sophia scoffed. Now she was fantasizing about kicking him in the balls.

"Given recent events, the bureau is united in the belief that you are innocent in all of this, and are the next target, perhaps the final target, of Dempsey's crimes."

"Oh, so now you believe he's stalking me?"

"We have camera footage."

Of course. "He was right outside," Sophia said. "But I'm guessing it'd be too good to be true if you managed to catch him."

"Dempsey is very skilled at evading capture," Travers said, an admittance that, Sophia figured, cost him a lot of pride to say. "He's never hid his crimes, but he's very good at staying one step ahead of them."

Sophia took a deep breath and sat back down again. "What do you mean by that?" she asked, figuring she would get more answers by being reasonable than raging at the agent. "That he's never hidden his crimes?"

"We've had Dempsey's fingerprints and DNA since the first victim," Travers told her. "Motive, witnesses, everything. We've known its him since almost day one."

"He wanted you to know."

"More than likely, yes."

"Why?"

"Hard to say."

"Okay, but if you've known it was him, why hasn't the media reported on all of this? Why hasn't his face been plastered everywhere for everyone to see?"

"We have to be very careful about what we release," Travers said, "especially in cases like these. With Dempsey so skillfully evading us, the last thing we needed was public interference."

Sophia wasn't buying it. "Agent Travers, were you hoping Graham would make his way here to me, either to kill me or collaborate with me, and you were hoping I could help you trap him?"

Travers pressed his lips together in a thin line. "The bureau does not use people as bait, Ms. Shelby."

That wasn't an answer to her question, but Sophia let the matter drop. She had her answer. "So, basically what you're saying is, he's not hiding what he's doing but he's very successfully evading law enforcement, he's after me, and has been killing women across the country who look like me, for what? So my death will be the grand finale or something?"

"It's hard to say what his motivations are specifically, but that's not a bad guess."

Sophia felt oddly calm. She had just learned that her ex legitimately wanted to murder her, and had already murdered many other people, and she was calm. Who would have thought?

"So what's the plan?" Agent Travers wouldn't be telling her all of this if he didn't have some path forward.

"We're offering to put you into protective custody," Travers said. "And given recent events, I think you should seriously consider taking that offer."

"And what happens if I don't?"

"Since he's here in L.A., at least for now, our efforts will be focused on tracking him, which will provide you some level of protection. However, with Dempsey's ability to avoid law enforcement, the risk you will take on will still be great."

"What does protective custody look like?"

"New location, new identity. It's not as comprehensive as what the Marshalls do with Witness Protection, but you won't need it. Once we capture Dempsey, you'll be able to return to your normal life."

"And what do you get out of all of this?"

Travers sighed. "Ms. Shelby, the bureau is offering protection. While there are some things we would appreciate from you, namely information about Dempsey that we don't already know and your testimony in court when the time comes, regardless of what you provide us, that protection offer stands."

The choice seemed obvious. But there was one piece of the puzzle that Travers hadn't addressed. "What about Dean?"

The agent was silent for a moment. "Our protocols are clearer when the couple is married," he finally said. "If not, then it becomes a little more complicated."

"Then uncomplicate it."

"Typically, someone who is just a boyfriend or girlfriend would not be involved." Sophia bristled at his dismissal of her and Dean's relationship. "However," Travers continued, "that's not set in stone. And if including him is what will get you to agree to this, then we are willing to negotiate."

Sophia swallowed hard. Could she ask that of him? Could she ask him to give up his entire life and gain some new identity?

Of course, she could. She knew he would drop everything for her in a heartbeat. She just hated the idea of putting him through something that might make him resent her.

"Ms. Shelby, I do want you to have all of the information, though."

Sophia looked up at him. "What do you mean?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.

"You are aware that there have been three victims so far, yes?"

She nodded.

"There was a fourth."

Sophia felt all of the air get sucked out of her lungs. "What?" she croaked out. "Who? Why wasn't it reported? What—"

"Because the victim wasn't part of the pattern," Travers said, cutting her off. "And unlike the three women, we don't believe Dempsey planned on killing him."

"Him?"

"Jenny Lively, the most recent victim, had broken up with her boyfriend a few weeks before she met Dempsey. It seems that her ex became concerned about her relationship with Dempsey and confronted him."

"And Graham killed him?"

"It seems he'll kill anyone who gets in his way."

Sophia stood, gripping the counter to keep herself standing as she suddenly felt lightheaded. That changed everything. "Dean would get in his way."

Travers regarded her silently.

In her heart, Sophia knew that it wasn't her decision as to whether Dean should take the risk of coming with her. But she knew what his answer would be. And she couldn't lose him. She wouldn't lose him.

"So, either I stay here, and Dean and I will both probably die, we both come with you and we both might die, or I go with you and I might die but he'll most likely be safe."

"That is my conclusion as well, yes."

Sophia turned around to face the agent. "And if Dean doesn't come?" she asked. "What do we tell him?"

"Nothing," Travers said sharply. "No one can know. If Dempsey gets even an inkling that someone knows something about where you are, he will seek them out, and he will get answers. It's safer for everyone in your life to know nothing."

Sophia felt her heart crack. "So I walk out of Dean's life without any sort of explanation as to why?"

Travers stood. "I understand that this is difficult, Ms. Shelby. But it's all in the name of saving lives. As I said, you'll be able to come back to this life one day. It's not forever."

Sophia highly doubted she would one day be able to come back to this life. She was about to take a sledgehammer to her life.

"It's your decision, Ms. Shelby."

Sophia took a deep breath. It wasn't a decision at all. "I won't lose him," she said, looking Travers squarely in the eye. "I won't see him die."

Travers nodded. "We need to leave, soon."

"Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"Dean gets back from his shift tomorrow," Sophia told him. "I won't do this to him through a note or over the phone. He deserves to hear this from me in person."

Travers didn't look happy, but also seemed to realize that Sophia wouldn't be talked out of this. "We'll keep agents outside the building," he said. "There will be a few around after you leave, as well, just to make sure everything stays quiet and Dempsey doesn't try anything. After you talk to him, take your car, and drive to this address." He handed her a slip of paper. "I'll meet you there, and agents will take care of everything else."

Sophia gripped the piece of paper in her hands, already regretting her decision.

"I will see you tomorrow, Ms. Shelby," Travers said. "And good luck."

He left her standing alone in her empty apartment, kitchen knife still by the door, and her heart ready to be shattered at any moment.