The rusted Ford rattled violently as Gus pressed the gas. Dakota felt the vibrations through the floorboards and up into her boots. The car pulled away from the curb outside the Walton estate.

Up on the second-floor balcony, Erling and Brande stood side by side. Erling held a pair of black binoculars.

Brande let out a sharp, loud laugh. “Look at that piece of junk. Even our gardeners drive better. She’s right where she belongs.”

Erling lowered the binoculars, a cruel smirk on his lips. “She’ll rot in the slums. She’ll beg to come back in a week.”

Cindy walked onto the balcony, pressing an ice pack to her swollen cheek. She stared at the trail of black smoke. Her chest heaved with vindictive pleasure.

Inside the car, Dakota grabbed the plastic handle above the door frame. The vehicle bounced hard over a pothole.

Gus gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white. He kept glancing at Dakota in the rearview mirror, his face flushed.

“I’m so sorry, Miss.” He coughed. The smell of burning oil filled the cabin. “The car we arranged broke down on the highway. I had to rent this from a used lot just to get to you on time.”

Dakota looked at the cracked dashboard. She gave a small nod.

“It’s fine,” she said. Her voice was calm. She didn’t complain.

Gus blinked. He’d expected the young lady to scream at him. Her silence made him grip the wheel tighter.

The Ford merged onto a tree-lined highway heading toward the city. The speedometer needle shook as it climbed to forty miles per hour.

A loud pop sounded under the hood.

A thick cloud of white steam exploded from the front grill. It plastered against the windshield, blinding them.

The car jerked. Every red warning light on the dashboard flashed. A high-pitched alarm shrieked.

Gus slammed the brake and yanked the wheel to the right. Tires skidded on asphalt. The car bumped over the shoulder and rolled to a dead stop under a large oak tree. The engine died.

Gus ripped off his seatbelt and shoved his door open. He ran to the front.

A wave of hot steam hit him in the face. He coughed violently, waving his arms.

Dakota pushed her door open and stepped onto the grass. She walked to the front, standing upwind.

Gus peered under the hood. His shoulders slumped. He turned to her.

“The radiator blew,” he said. “It’s completely dead.”

Dakota looked up and down the empty highway. Trees lined both sides. No buildings in sight.

“How far are we from the city?” she asked.

Gus wiped grease off his cheek. “Too far to walk. No cabs out here. A tow truck will take three hours.”

He bit his bottom lip and looked down the road. “There’s a luxury auto dealership just around the corner. Less than half a mile. I’ll run there and buy a new car. I’ll be right back.”

Dakota paused. Most people would say they were going to call a car. He said he was going to buy one. She didn’t question him.

“I’ll wait here,” she said. “Be careful.”

Gus bowed his head repeatedly and sprinted down the edge of the highway.

Dakota stood alone next to the smoking vehicle. She grabbed her canvas backpack from the passenger seat and set it on the hood. She unzipped the side pocket and pulled out a plastic water bottle. She twisted the cap off and took a slow drink.

A sudden, aggressive screech of tires tore through the quiet air. It came from the sharp curve just up the road.

A woman’s terrified scream followed.

Dakota dropped the water bottle onto the hood and jogged toward the curve. Her boots crushed dead leaves on the shoulder.

She rounded the bend. A massive black Maybach sat diagonally across both lanes. Hazard lights blinked rapidly, flashing orange against the trees.

The rear passenger door was wide open. A cluster of people crowded around the asphalt near the rear tire. Panic radiated off them.

Dakota walked closer. A middle-aged woman lay flat on her back on the rough road. She wore an elegant silk dress that pooled around her legs. Her face was the color of ash. Her lips were a deep, bruised purple. Her hands clawed at the fabric over her chest. Her chest barely moved.

A younger woman in a designer suit knelt beside her. Tiffany Draper. Tears had ruined her makeup.

“Somebody do something,” Tiffany screamed at the men in black suits standing around them. “I’ll pay one million dollars to anyone who saves her.”

A man with gold-rimmed glasses knelt on Audrey’s other side. Sweat poured down his face. A leather medical bag sat open by his knees. His hands shook as he dug through it.

Dakota stopped at the edge of the circle. Her eyes locked onto the woman’s neck, watching the faint, erratic flutter of her pulse. She noted the exact shade of purple on her lips.

Her mind processed the symptoms instantly. This wasn’t a heart attack. The muscle spasms in the woman’s neck and that specific discoloration pointed to a rare poison attacking her heart.

The doctor pulled a plastic syringe from his bag. The needle was long and thick. He drew a clear liquid from a vial. Epinephrine. Adrenaline.

He raised the syringe. He aimed the needle directly at the center of the woman’s chest, preparing to plunge it straight into her heart.

Dakota’s stomach dropped. If that adrenaline hit a heart already weakened by poison, it would burst in seconds.

She moved. She didn’t push anyone. She dropped low, striking the inside of each man’s knee with a sharp, precise blow. The bodyguards grunted. Their legs buckled, creating an opening she slipped through.

She dropped to her knees. Her right hand clamped around the doctor’s wrist just as he drove the needle downward.

A loud pop. The bones in the doctor’s wrist ground together. He cried out in pain. The needle stopped one inch above the silk dress.

The doctor yanked his head up. His face went red with fury.

“What are you doing?” he yelled. “Get off me.”

Dakota twisted her grip. She pressed into the nerve cluster at his wrist. His fingers went numb and popped open. She snatched the syringe out of the air.

She held it up. Sunlight caught the sharp edge of the needle.

“If you push this into her chest, she’ll be dead in three seconds,” Dakota said. Her voice cut through the panic like a blade.

Tiffany scrambled to her feet. She pointed a shaking finger at Dakota’s faded jacket.

“Who the hell are you?” Tiffany shrieked. “Look at you. You look like a homeless beggar. How dare you touch her doctor.”

The doctor grabbed his injured wrist and scrambled backward.

“She’s trying to kill the patient,” he shouted. “If she dies, it’s this crazy woman’s fault.”

The bodyguards recovered their balance. They reached under their jackets. The metallic click of telescopic batons extending filled the air. Four men formed a tight ring around Dakota.

The air grew heavy. The men glared down at her.

Audrey’s body suddenly arched off the pavement. A horrible, wet choking sound came from her throat. The portable heart monitor attached to her wrist began beeping rapidly.

Dakota ignored the men looming over her. She tossed the syringe onto the asphalt and looked directly into Tiffany’s panicked eyes.

“I’m the only person here who can keep her alive,” Dakota said.

The words hung in the air. The highway went dead silent except for the frantic beeping of the heart monitor.

Tiffany let out a harsh, ugly laugh.

“You?” She looked Dakota up and down, her eyes lingering on the scuffed boots. “You can’t even afford a decent coat. You’re a street rat playing doctor.”

The private physician scrambled to his feet. He pointed his uninjured hand at Dakota.

“She’s a murderer,” he yelled at the head bodyguard. “Throw this lunatic into the ditch before she kills my patient.”

Two bodyguards stepped forward. Their massive hands reached for Dakota’s shoulders.

Dakota’s eyes turned to ice. Her right hand dropped to her waist, fingers curling into a tight fist. Her muscles locked.

On the ground, Audrey convulsed violently. A stream of thick, black blood erupted from her mouth, spilling down her chin and staining the silk dress.

The doctor screamed and jumped back.

“The poison hit her heart,” he yelled, his voice cracking. “She’s gone. Start making the calls.”

Tiffany’s face drained of color. She grabbed handfuls of her own hair.

“If she dies, the Wilder family will slaughter us all,” she shrieked.

Dakota heard the name. Wilder. The most powerful family in the country.

The bodyguards froze, their eyes locked on the black blood. Dakota used their hesitation. She dropped her shoulder and slid past them.

She dropped to one knee beside Audrey. She pressed three fingers against the side of Audrey’s neck, feeling for a pulse. It was weak and chaotic.

Tiffany saw Dakota touching Audrey. She lunged forward, her hands hooking into claws, aiming for the back of Dakota’s jacket.

Dakota didn’t look back. She swung her left arm backward in a sweeping arc. The back of her hand slammed into Tiffany’s waist.

Tiffany stumbled and crashed hard onto the asphalt.

“If you want her to live, shut your mouth,” Dakota commanded. The authority in her voice froze everyone in place.

The bodyguards didn’t move. They stared at the girl, paralyzed.

Tiffany sat on the ground, her chest heaving with rage.

“If she dies while you’re touching her, you’ll pay with your life,” she screamed.

Dakota peeled Audrey’s eyelids back, checking her pupils. She didn’t look at Tiffany.

“And if I bring her back?” Dakota asked.

Tiffany gritted her teeth. “That million dollars is yours.”

Dakota shifted her gaze to the massive diamond necklace resting against Tiffany’s collarbone.

“A million isn’t enough,” Dakota said. “I want the necklace. And I want you to bow and apologize in front of everyone.”

Tiffany gasped. Her hands flew to cover the diamonds. She’d borrowed the piece just to impress the Wilder family.

Audrey’s chest stopped moving entirely. The heart monitor’s beeping grew erratic.

“Fine,” Tiffany screamed, tears spilling down her face. “Deal. But if she’s not awake in five minutes, I’ll have you thrown in a cell forever.”

Dakota’s lips curved into a cold smile. “Deal.”

She turned her full attention back to the dying woman. She reached up to the back of her head. Her fingers found a plain black bobby pin holding her long black hair in place.

She pulled the pin out. Her hair fell in a heavy wave over her shoulders.

Dakota pressed her thumbnail against a hidden groove on the side of the hairpin. A tiny click sounded. The top slid open. Inside lay a row of hair-thin silver needles.