“Yes. That’s why she’s dangerous.”
The plan was simple and cruel.
I would call Claire. I would tell her I had found something confusing in Liam’s office. I would say I didn’t understand it, that I was afraid Liam had done something wrong. I would ask her to meet me at our house after the kids were asleep at Mom’s.
Mara’s team would be inside.
Recording.
Watching.
Waiting.
“Don’t accuse her,” Mara said. “Let her comfort you. Let her think she can control the story.”
The idea of sitting across from Claire, letting her touch me, letting her say my name, made my stomach turn.
But then Noah woke from his motel nap and cried because he had dreamed Daddy was knocking but couldn’t find the door.
So I called.
Claire answered on the first ring.
“Emily? Where are you? I’ve been terrified.”
I closed my eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, thank God. Are the kids okay?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you leave like that?”
“I found something.” I made my voice thin. Breakable. “At Liam’s office.”
Silence breathed between us.
“What did you find?”
“I don’t know. Papers. Bank things. Your name was there, Claire.”
Her inhale was soft.
Then she became my sister again.
“Oh, Em,” she whispered. “Listen to me. Liam was in trouble. Daniel tried to help him, but Liam got paranoid near the end.”
The lie came so easily I almost admired it.
“I don’t know what to do.”
“I do,” she said quickly. Too quickly. “Come home. We’ll go through it together. Just you and me.”
“Tonight?”
“Yes. Daniel doesn’t need to know yet. This is family.”
Family.
The oldest weapon.
That night, the house looked exactly as I had left it and nothing like home. Federal agents had entered through the back before me and hidden in the pantry, the laundry room, the upstairs closet. Mara sat in a dark van down the street. I wore a small recorder beneath Liam’s sweatshirt.
His sweatshirt.
I needed him near my skin.
