She realized she didn’t mind shedding her skin like this and damned if she would spend her final years making other people rich. She’d had enough of being used, had learned that from Julia if nothing else. That woman had taken charge of her life, refused to let her father’s crushing disappointment buckle her, and Alice wanted to find the killer now for revenge as much as absolution. Maybe she and Xavi were more alike than she knew. Thinking about Julia made Alice miss the other woman; she had shown her the eternal truth: if you’re not in charge, you’re a slave.