A pale, watery sun hovered apathetically in the sky, barely managing to warm the day. This morning the ground had been glazed in silver frost. We could see snow any day now. I could feel winter descending, its talons reaching out from the jagged mountains in the distance, sinking into the ground around me. Snow had already fallen on the highest peaks, looking like cream-dipped cones jutting into the cold, turquoise sky.

I sipped my Starbucks coffee and unwrapped the ham sandwich I’d bought to go with it. Yesterday had been my first day working mornings at the clinic. The hours away from Josh were interminable, my mind constantly drifting away from my patients to how he was feeling, if he was okay. For the first time ever, I wished I didn’t have to go to work. But we needed the money, the health insurance.

I’d told Moira this morning that I would be a little late coming home because I’d be filling out paperwork for human resources. A dangerous lie: if anybody checked, they’d know I wasn’t at the hospital right now. But it was a risk I had to take.

I checked the canvas bag with the prescription pads. Everything was there, ready. This had to work. Now that Violeta was gone, Ben needed a partner for his oxy ring, and I could be that partner.

We just had to make sure Ben never found out what we’d done to Violeta.

I stared at the ham sandwich in my hand. The pink meat glistened in the thin sunlight. I pressed a fist to my mouth, fighting a wave of nausea. The sound of Violeta’s body hitting the river crashed through my memory. I set the sandwich on the passenger’s seat, unable to eat any more.

Get ahold of yourself, Emma.

I flashed back to Nate telling me he’d found a business card from the clinic on Violeta’s body, and the fear swelled again. Gabe must’ve handed her my card when Violeta was snorting what she thought was cocaine. For a moment, I wanted to kill him. Now Nate would get a warrant to find out if Violeta Williams was a patient at my clinic.

At ten past, Gabe pulled into the parking lot on a motorcycle. He’d arranged to meet Ben here, telling him he’d give him the prescriptions I’d signed. But Ben didn’t know I would be here too.

Gabe parked in the middle of the lot, where he would blend into the midday Costco shoppers the most. A few minutes later a boxy white van with deeply tinted windows pulled up next to him.

Gabe got off his motorcycle and approached the driver’s side window. He leaned against the van, chatting casually before handing Ben a stack of papers—the prescriptions?