The SUV was burning ferociously. Ethan was lying on his back. He gained consciousness two minutes later and his eardrums ached from the splitting blast.

T e r r y !

The name echoed in his head. He sprang up and turned his head at several angles, searching for her. Distance away from him, he saw a figure lying motionless. Pushing all negative thoughts aside, he ran to her side and carefully placed a hand under her nape. That's when he noticed the gash on her head and the blood gushing out. He tried to stanch it, but the flow was too rapid it didn't help.

He groped his pocket for his cell phone. It wasn't there so he focused on stopping the blood.

"Stay with me, Terry."

She muttered something he couldn't hear. She was losing blood. Her eyes glazed over. Slowly, her head tilted and she fell back in his arms.

"Terry, no! Please don't die on me. I'm begging you."

He hadn't been one to cry, but right now he felt that was what he could do. He clutched her to his chest while her blood soaked into his shirt. "Terry!"

Shelby hurtled across the street, brought the van to a halt, and ran toward the explosion. She found Ethan holding Terry like a baby and quickly hurled herself there. Panting, she dropped to her knees. Her eyes welled with tears as she checked for a pulse. When she found none, she said sadly, "She's dead."

She looked at Ethan. "I'm sorry."

He didn't react as though he was in a trance. Two minutes elapsed before she added, "I called the cops and the ambulance on my way. They'll be here any moment from now. We need to go."

Ethan didn't reply. It was as though Shelby didn't exist to him. She looked at her wristwatch. "We need to go, Ethan. She's dead. There's nothing you can do."

Finally, he frowned at her and snapped, "Don't you think I know that?"

Shelby sighed. Terry's death had devastated him and hadn't sunk in yet. She decided to let him grieve for a while. The loud shrills from the police sirens broke the quietness.

"We need to go. The cops shouldn't find you here."

"I'm not leaving her."

Shelby was annoyed. She pushed his face in her direction so he could see her. "Look here, Ethan," she said, "Terry's dead. There's nothing you or I can do. If the cops find you here, they'll chalk up her death to you. The law won't go easy on you."

"I'm still not leaving her."

Shelby sprang up. Two squad cars pulled up across the street as several cops emerged from various doors.

"Hell, you're not!"

She started pulling him forcefully to his feet. He was massive, but nothing she couldn't handle. The cops were running to their side. Slowly, Ethan let go of Terry. He got to his feet and followed Shelby to the van. They hit the road back to Dan's house. For several minutes, neither of them spoke. Then Ethan picked the pistol on the dashboard, directed it at Shelby, and said, "Stop the van!"

Shelby didn't.

He shouted, his voice gravelly, "I said stop the van."

"All right."

She slammed on the brakes and took her hands off the steering wheels. The van propelled forward and finally stopped by the embankment.

Ethan unbuckled the seat belt. Shelby's voice caught him as he went for the door. "What are you going to do?"

"Find Clinton."

"And then what?"

"Kill him," he said the words coldly. Shelby knew he was out for blood. When he hopped out, she quickly unfastened her seat belt, jumped onto the floor and trailed behind him.

"Ethan, you're not thinking."

He didn't stop to look at her, said, "Yes. I'm not," and increased his steps.

"Ethan, stop!"

He didn't. Shelby jogged to keep up with his speed.

"Please, stop. Think about your son. If you kill Clinton, you'll never know where he's hiding your son. I know it hurts and you're probably wondering why Terry had to die.

"I warned you about the consequence if you proceed against them without a proper plan. Terry's death should teach you a lesson, not send you on a killing spree."

He halted and turned around to look at her, loosening his grip on the gun. "She died because of me. Because I dragged her into this. If I hadn't kidnapped her from her house, none of this would've happened. I put her life at risk." He paused, let the tears fall, then in a self-loathing tone he said, "I killed her."

Shelby neared him. "No, Ethan. You did kidnap her and endangered her life, but you didn't kill her. Terry's death isn't on you."

He wanted to believe that, but he didn't. Terry's death was on him. "Who are we kidding? I got her into this mess. She was here because she wanted to help save Ronnie."

"You didn't kill Terry. Clinton did. And we have to stop him before he hurts someone else you care about. Your son."

"Terry didn't deserve to die like that. She was a good woman."

She patted his shoulder. "She died a heroine. She'll always be remembered." Then she extended her arms toward him and embraced him.

"I'm truly sorry," she told him, stroking his back.

#. #. #

At Dan's house, Anna and Jane sat on the couch, waiting for news. "What's keeping them so long?" Anna complained.

She'd asked the same question for the hundredth time and Dan had assured her they would be back in no time. But now he too was tired of waiting and his anxiety was starting to get the best of him.

They waited a while longer. Then the door opened. Ethan stepped inside with Shelby and they joined the rest in the living room. They were bombarded with questions about Ronnie and Terry.

"We couldn't get him," Ethan murmured. "Clinton never intended to make a trade. It was an ambush."

Anna burst into tears and started wailing. Jane consoled her.

Dan quickly said, "And the Judge?"

At the remembrance of how Terry had peacefully died in his arms, a teardrop landed in his bloody shirt. That's when Dan noticed the blood.

"Is that blood?" he said.

"It's not mine."

Dan connected the dots. His mouth agape, he slowly uttered the words. "Terry's hurt?"

"No. She's dead," Ethan said.

A jolt swept across the room. Then a somber silence ensued for several minutes. Shelby said to Dan, "Take him to the bathroom. Let him take a bath and have a good sleep. He needs it."

With a nod, Dan walked to the grieve-stricken Ethan, said, "Come on buddy," and then led him away.

Shelby looked at Jane and Anna. She'd have wanted to introduce herself and get to know them given the right circumstance. Running her messy hair backward, she looked at them and said, "I guess I should be going."

They nodded in unison and she retraced her steps to the door. Trying to absorb the horror of the events, she passed across the lawn and into the van where she cried her eyes out. She thought of Gabby. The little girl she'd grown to adore would live without a mother. The thoughts of that made her furious and if she didn't know better, she'd have driven straight to Clinton's house and after she'd inserted a bullet into his head, she'd burn down the stupid sanctuary he called a penthouse. Damn Clinton!

She cried a while longer, sniffled, cried again, then wiped the tears off. Tomorrow, she'd take Gabby to her father and figure out how to break the news to Eddie before the press made a headline out of Terry's death.

Wavering a little, Dan said to Ethan who was standing in front of the oval mirror above the sink from the threshold, "I guess I should leave you here."

Ethan didn't say anything to him. Dan showed himself out. Alone in the bathroom, he looked back at the person in the mirror staring at him. He was a mess. His face was bruised with traces of congealed blood. There was a crack on his lip and his hair was smudged. He needed a bath, but right now he didn't feel like taking one.

Terry's death hadn't still registered and to him, it never would. Her pale face when blood was draining from her flashed his memory. She'd muttered something to him, but because he was in shock, he didn't pay attention to what she said. Then peaceably, she had passed away in his arms. There was no pain. Her death was tragic. Ethan knew he'd never get over it.

Slowly, he gritted his teeth, clenched a fist, and with a muffled yell, punched the mirror in front of him. It broke into pieces. Shards cut through his knuckles. Blood seeped out. He was so angry he didn't feel any pain.

He staggered about the room, located a corner, and sat on the cold floor. Dan came running into the room when he heard the noise. He found him slumped on the floor and crying. The scene saddened him. Ethan had always been the brave guy, but right now Dan was staring at someone in need of emotional help.

He joined him on the floor like when they were children and Dan was beaten up badly by bullies and crying in his hideout. Ethan would join him and console him. And right now, he was doing that for him.

"Terry's death isn't your fault."

He was tired of hearing it.

"I killed her. She's dead because of me. I kidnapped her from her house, mistreated her. . . and then killed her."

"No, Ethan. Terry was a good woman. She wouldn't have wanted you to blame yourself for her death. She died a heroine and you should be proud of her."

Ethan looked at him and said, "I wished I could believe I didn't kill her."

#. #. #

Clinton sat on the stool in his penthouse, nursing a glass of scotch. By now the cops had discovered Terry and Ethan's body. The bittersweet feeling he had was uncommon. Partly, he was happy Ethan was dead and the evidence implicating him and Peterson was destroyed. Terry's death-however-had been a colossal loss. Somehow tragic too.

When it came to empathy for humans, he had zero skill, but Terry's death had hit him differently and for the first time in so many years, he was being emotional. Was that a bad thing?

Clinton had witnessed many murders, committed some even, but was never saddened by any of them. He'd killed a business partner and a long-time friend years back to protect his secrets after they had blackmailed him and Clinton hadn't felt a twinge of guilt or remorse. Why was he languishing now? Perhaps, he was growing soft. Or perhaps because Judge Terry didn't deserve to die in that blast.

The target had been Ethan. The trade was only a ruse to get him to come to the park with the evidence. Terry was never part of it. She had been at the wrong place at the wrong time. He thought of Gabby and Eddie. And he wondered why he'd think about them. How would they live without their Terry? She was a good woman he had exploited to take down Ethan. He never intended her death and perhaps, that was why he too was shaken up. Life didn't always play fair-he'd known that-and just like Terry, her death wasn't fair.

The vibration of his cell phone brought him back to the present. He sipped from the glass before he answered the call.

"We've got a problem."

Clinton frowned. He was celebrating the fugitive's death and another so-called problem was already knocking on his door.

Nonchalantly, he said, "What sort?"

"I just spoke with the coroner."

"And?"

"Only one body was discovered at the crime scene."

He almost jumped out of his skin. "What!"

"That's not the worst part."

"Spit it out."

"They identified the body to be Terry's. Which means Willows is still out there."

He let the news sink in, then he yelled, "Damn it!"