until

as he set it down, it occurred to Harris that it was time to talk some sense into her. He needed to get out of the apartment anyway; ever since it had started rocking he’d felt seasick. Fresh air would help.
Down on the sidewalk, he tried to take another drink, but lifted a wad of newsprint to his mouth.
He stared accusingly at his hand. It had brought the wrong stuff. It failed him even when he wasn’t throwing a backfist with it.
He smoothed out the wad of paper and smiled down at the expectation and hope he saw in his own younger face.
Then, with meticulous care, he tore the first article’s headline free and let it flutter to the sidewalk. That felt good. Half a dozen words he no longer had to live up to.
Walking toward Gaby’s home, he ripped loose another strip of words.

Gaby got her apartment door closed and threw the three deadbolts on it.
Her feet hurt. She must have walked for two hours after she left Harris.
And she still hadn’t eaten. Small wonder. That talk had killed her appetite. She wondered if she’d be hungry again before summer.
Someone knocked on the front door, startling her. Her visitor must have come up the stairs right behind her. Gaby put her eye to the peephole.
Her visitor was an old man, elegantly dressed, his face merry—the perfect grandfather, obviously rich and good-natured. It had to be one of the other tenants; she hadn’t buzzed anyone into the building. She’d never seen him before. “Who is it?” she asked.
“Miss, ah, Gabriela Donohue?”
“That’s right.” She waited patiently; no need to unlock the door, no matter how innocuous he looked, until he satisfied her that she had a reason to.
“Thank you,” he said. Then he stepped away from the door, out of sight.
Someone moved in to take his place. It was a man in a dark overcoat, so tall that she could not see above the knot of his gray necktie, so wide that he seemed to match the door in breadth. Gaby took an involuntary step back.
There was a sharp bang! and the door crashed down, its locks and hinges shattered; it fell against Gaby and staggered her. Beyond, the huge man was striding ­forward, and the old man and another intruder came close ­behind. . . .
Gaby felt icy terror grip her stomach. She turned and ran. She had to reach her bedroom, the fire escape outside her window—
The huge man caught up to her before she reached