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Mercy is in the middle of the room with blood on one sleeve that does not appear to be hers. A vendor sits in a chair with a towel pressed to his head while Junie works on him. Petal is upright. Lark is at the window. Crypt stands near the rear hallway with his gun out.

Hyde has a phone against his ear.

Sweet is not here.

That absence hits harder than anything I said this morning.

“Where is she?”

Mercy turns.

The look she gives me could strip paint.

“She left through the rear employee door.”

“What?”

“She was supposed to stay inside.”

My temper flashes toward the easiest target because fear is a coward too.

I kill it before it reaches my mouth.

“This ain't on you.”

Mercy goes still. “No,” she says. “It isn't.”

“It's on Razor.”

“Yes.”

I swallow. “What I did is on me.”

Something in her face changes.

Not forgiveness.

Good.

I don't deserve that.

Hyde ends his call. “CSI's tracking cameras. Razor sent Sweet pictures of her mother's frame from your apartment.”

My vision narrows. “My apartment?”

Mercy nods. “He got inside.”

The steel door. The cameras. The code.

The place I told Sweet was safe.

Of course.

Apparently today every promise I make comes with an expiration time.

“What else?”

Mercy looks at me.