“I need your help.”

I picked up a sock and found the matching one as I told him about the video surveillance footage of the clinic. Marjorie’s desk computer was chock-full of random yellow sticky notes with various passwords and reminders jotted down. The video surveillance was new, and I was guessing—hoping—she still had the log-in details written on one of those Post-it Notes.

“I need to get into her office, log in, and delete the surveillance files.”

“Listen, sweetheart, this isn’t my problem,” Gabe drawled. “I can’t get into her office for you.”

I ignored him. “She always works late. I need you to break into her car. Just create a distraction so she leaves the clinic, and I’ll sneak in when she’s gone.”

“Have you lost your mind? No way! I’m not going to jail for you. There’ll be surveillance video in the parking lot too.”

“Only in the southwest corner—the rest of that system broke last year. Park down the street, not in the hospital lot, and walk up.”

“No!”

I lowered my voice. “You know if I get caught, we’re both going down. They’ll find out about the prescription pads and that will lead them to Violeta. It won’t take them long before they connect me to you.”

Gabe growled, a frustrated hum in his throat. He knew I was right. No matter how much he hated me, we were tied together.

“Fine.”

“Meet me outside the café at six.”

I hung up and went to check on the briefcase I’d hidden at the back of the closet—I didn’t want it to look too hidden because it might seem suspicious. The briefcase had two locks, one on the left, one on the right. Both required a combination of numbers, neither of which I knew.

I dropped to the floor next to the briefcase and wrapped my arms around Charlie, hugging him as a growing sense of dread filled me.

“MOMMY?” JOSH came into the bedroom, his Star Wars blanket trailing behind him, his pointer and middle fingers in his mouth. “What are you doing?” he asked around his fingers. “Is that a suitcase? Where are we going?”

I stood and tucked the briefcase back in the closet under my clothes.

“It’s just a briefcase for work. There are patient files in there, so you can’t touch it.” I stroked Josh’s cheek, which was pale, but cool to the touch. The extra fluids from the IV had helped in the short term. Now we just had to wait until chemo started next week. “How you feeling, sweetie? Are you okay?”

He lifted his narrow shoulders. “Yeah. I’m bored. There’s a bird on the fence outside. One time at school I was with Jilly Murphy and I had jam on my finger and I touched a bird’s back.”