L.O.V.E.
Terry Gilman did not panic. She knew she was going to die a quick yet messy death the moment she looked into the barrel of the Colt Python .357, even if she already had her Glock in her hand. She hadn't heard from Paul for a too long while, she suddenly realized. She knew something was off with her uncle, but she was too distracted by Joe's Great Revenge to really take notice of anything else. Yes, she knew Joe had been sleeping around the whole Trenton, but she chose to hold her silence. She knew he was badly hurt and forever damaged, both physically and mentally. She knew he was dying to get even, to take out his anger and misery on anyone related to Stephanie. She wished she could help. She wished she could chase away the demon in Joe's heart, and bring his charming sincere smile back to life with patience and love. But now it seemed she wouldn't have the chance or time.
She looked straight into her would-be executioner's calm Irish green eyes and started to pray. Maybe she would be lucky enough. Maybe she could outduel him. Maybe she could survive and warn Joe in time. Maybe they could finally have a chance for happiness, just the two of them, somewhere in the ocean, on an island, beneath the cotton candy like clouds, under the clear blue sky—Terry Gilman let out a sighing laugh, pulled the trigger while getting shot in her head, missed her target, and died.
And the very last thought she had before being swallowed by the cold hard eternal darkness was that the clear blue sky would probably remind Joe of his precious Cupcake, Stephanie Plum...