Page 117 of Twilight Tactics

The voice froze Elena’s blood solid. She turned her head slowly to find Iris standing ten feet away, a pistol aimed at her. Elena rose to her feet, keeping her hands where Iris could see them. “How did you find me?”

“You always did this as a kid. Remember our tracking games? You’d double back instead of running forward like everyone else.” Iris smiled, a cold, vacant look in her eyes. “I know how you think, Eleanor. I always have.”

“My name is Elena now.”

“Your name is whatever I say it is.” Iris stepped closer, the gun never wavering. “I don’t have time for games anymore. LaVoy is furious. The FBI is crawling all over our land. Everything I’ve built is falling apart because of you. You with your perfect life surrounded by perfect people.”

“That was you at the ranch that day. The woman Sully chased?”

“That was me. I was just watching you. I’ve been watching you for a while now. You and your perfectness.”

“I’m far from perfect. But I’ve found peace and I want that for you too. I want my sister back.”

“It’s too late for that.”

“And the man who tried to grab me that day by the fence line?”

“Another failed attempt to get you to the compound for your reeducation.” She shrugged. “All failures,” she whispered. “Every last one of them. But here we are. Success at last.”

Elena assessed her options. The distance between them was too great to rush her sister before she could fire, and there was nowhere to run. So ... no real options. Her heart squeezed.

“It doesn’t have to be this way, Iris. I love you. I miss you.I’ve missed you for years. We can walk away and make up for lost time. Please.” She ended her plea on a whisper, and for a moment, something flickered in Iris’s gaze and she thought her sister’s lip trembled.

Then her eyes hardened and her chin lifted. “No, we can’t. This ends now. You weren’t supposed to die like this, but I guess even a great plan can have a different ending. As long as the end result is the same.”

The gunshot cracked through the night air, echoing off the surrounding trees. Elena flinched, expecting pain, but felt nothing.

Iris’s face contorted in shock. She staggered forward, dropping to one knee as blood bloomed across her shoulder. The pistol fell from her grasp as she collapsed.

Behind her stood their father, his hunting rifle still raised.

“Dad?” Elena whispered.

He lowered the rifle, his weathered face a mask of anguish. “I couldn’t let her do it.”

Elena rushed forward, kicking Iris’s gun away before kneeling beside her sister. Blood pulsed from the wound, soaking through her jacket.

“You’re not dying on me,” Elena said firmly, pressing her hands against the injury. “Not like this.”

Iris’s eyes burned with hatred and confusion. “Why are you helping me? I was going to kill you.”

“Because you’re my sister.” Elena tore a strip from her own shirt, wadding it against the wound. “And I’ve lost enough family already.”

Her father stood frozen, the rifle hanging limply at his side. “I never thought it would come to this. My daughters...”

“Call for help,” Elena ordered him. “Use the pay phone. Tell them we need an ambulance.”

He nodded and hurried toward the phone booth.

Iris’s face had gone pale, her breathing shallow. “You should let me die.”

“That’s not who I am,” Elena replied, maintaining pressure on the wound. “That’s not who I ever was. And you weren’t going to kill me.”

“I ... I don’t know. I might have,” Iris whispered, her voice weakening. “I hated you for leaving me there. For fourteen years, I hated you.”

“I know. And I’m sorry. Mom was so torn. Gutted about leaving you—”

“She came back.” Iris’s eyes fluttered. “Two years after you left. Father caught her trying to get to me. They were going to send her to reeducation, but then she escaped again and that was that.”