Izzy, no matter how brave and bossy she ever thought she was, had reduced to a crumpled heap, sobbing on the floor. John and Pablo had not been hit, merely reduced to scared heaps of trembling flesh. They had not expected the sudden gunshots, and were soon heading out the door and slipping away into the neighbourhood to avoid being seen.

A few of the neighbours had rushed down the stairs and a woman was offering to call the authorities, while trying to soothe Izzy. Izzy pushed them away, told them it was nothing, and they left, knowing better than to cause a fuss over an everyday occurrence in this neighbourhood.

She remained on the floor, stunned and scared. Forgetting everything around her, trying to comprehend the bigger picture. She tried to see through her tear streaked eyes but everything was a blur. She couldn’t find Renard anywhere, or the gun.

She wiped the wetness from her cheeks and called for Renard desperately. She didn’t want to be alone, not now, not after she knew who was after her.