The opioid epidemic was, at its basest level, a case of supply and demand, and supply was never in doubt. So many others, just like Ben, had started on opioids. They’d had a bad back or had broken a leg or torn a tendon, and a doctor had prescribed OxyContin or Percodan. Then when their opioids were taken away, they turned to the streets. To heroin. To fentanyl. Sometimes to meth. It was a genie that couldn’t be put back in the bottle.

Ben had been passed out in the same alley when I found him the next time. I stuffed his pockets with everything I had. Then I called the police. I watched, stony-faced, from across the street as they arrested him.

“You know Ben was released from jail two years ago, right?” Nate said. “If he contacts you, you need to let me know. We’re looking for him. I can’t tell you why, but you need to know he’s out there. And if he knows you’re the one who turned him in, you could be in danger.”

A buzzing came from beside the couch. My eyes jumped to my purse. Nate looked at me, his gaze heavy and judgmental.

My phone.

One of my phones.

“Are you going to get that?” Nate’s voice was laser-sharp.

“No, we’re talking right now. It’s probably just Julia.”

He didn’t reply.

I stiffened. He knew I was hiding something. The girl at the clinic. The canvas bag of prescription pads. The pills I’d left for Julia. The briefcase at the back of our closet. Ben and Gabe waiting at the warehouse.

“This is all so unfair.” My voice cracked. “I’ve lost my whole family. My parents. My brother. And now Josh is sick. What if I lose him too? And what if we lose our insurance and…?”

“I know.” Nate’s gaze softened and he put a hand on my knee. His eyes, when they met mine, were bloodshot. “I’m scared too. I’ve got this case living inside my head and only a few weeks to prove I can solve it. I feel so damn helpless.”

Nate dropped his head into his hands. It took me a minute to realize he was crying. I didn’t think I’d ever seen my husband cry. He was bulletproof. To see him fall apart terrified me.

I could tell he was reliving Josh’s life, just like I was. The newborn who’d had his days and nights mixed up. The giggly baby who’d loved to snuggle. The inquisitive toddler who’d gotten into everything he could get his hands on. The precocious little boy with a flair for the dramatic. The sunny kid who made everyone smile.

I touched a hand to my cheek and realized I too was crying.