The bag in my hand was full of cash and I had a plan in place to get the money I needed for Josh. If this worked, he could get the treatment he needed.

My hand was on the car door’s handle when a shout cut through the air.

“Emma!”

Ice flooded my veins. It had come from the warehouse. I sprinted back the way I’d come, branches slapping my face. About halfway there, I crashed into Gabe.

“Emma!” He grabbed me by the shoulders, eyes wide with panic. “It’s Vi. Come on!”

Inside the warehouse, Violeta was sprawled on the floor near the table. She was seizing, her body thudding hard against the wooden floor. Her eyes were open, the pupils dilated. Her face was a stark blue-gray, clashing horribly with the scarf in her hair.

“What’s wrong with her?” Gabe screeched.

I scanned the area. The powder. I picked up the baggie.

“Gabe, what’s this?” My voice was icy, steady.

“Cocaine, I think. It’s what she likes.”

I dropped to my knees and put my fingers to Violeta’s neck. Her pulse was thready. “Check what that is!”

Violeta had gone still, the violent thudding replaced by a horrific gurgling coming from her chest. One eye was half-open. Her lips had turned blue.

Gabe tried to open the briefcase, but it was locked. He punched it over and over while I wiped foam from Violeta’s mouth with my coat sleeve and began CPR.

“The baggie,” I hissed. “There’s something written on it.”

I thrust down on Violeta’s chest with the heels of my hands. The pressure forced more foamy blood to seep from the corners of her mouth. But no breaths came. After a minute, her ribs cracked and gave way under my palms.

Gabe picked up the baggie from the ground and held it up to the lantern. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck, no, no, no!” he shouted. “It has an F on it. F. Fuck. Fuck.”

“Gabe, listen to me, you need to calm down. Tell me what F stands for.”

He met my gaze, his eyes stunned. “Fentanyl. I think it stands for fentanyl.”

I checked Violeta’s pulse. Nothing. I kept a dose of naloxone in the first aid kit in my car, but it wouldn’t be enough to combat something as strong as fentanyl.

I began another round of CPR.

By the time I stopped, my knees and my shoulders ached, and my fingers trembled. I checked again for a pulse, used my phone’s flashlight to peer into her eyes. These actions calmed me, separated me from what was actually happening.

After a moment, I sat back on my heels.