Léon, at the bend in the stairs, heard Stephanie’s scream and hurtled the rest of the way down and into the foyer. In the dim light he saw Stephanie on the floor and a woman bending over her, her long chestnut hair falling over her face. Just like Sabrina’s hair . . . The thought came and was gone as Léon shoved her aside. “Get away from her!” He took Stephanie into his arms and lifted her. He heard the woman say, “Léon, please, let me help,” and thought, as fleetingly as before. How the hell does she know my name? before he carried Stephanie into the living room and laid her on the couch. “Sabrina, my love, my love.” He sat with her, cradling her against his chest. And then he looked up at the woman, who had followed him, and felt his body go rigid with shock. “My God. My God. Who the devil—” The woman reached out to touch Stephanie’s hair. “Get away from her! Leave her alone!” Leave us alone, he thought, because he was filled with fear. Sabrina in his arms; Sabrina standing beside him.
