Instead of sleep, we talk all night, about everything we’ve missed in the last few days and nothing of consequence, until the elephant in the room tap dances its way to the center and forces us to acknowledge it.

“What do you think is going to happen tomorrow?” she asks around four in the morning. “Well, technically today, I guess.” I can hear the worry making her voice tight, and I press a soft kiss to her forehead.

“We’ll tell the truth and then the judge will decide. That’s all there is to it. Maybe they’ll even settle beforehand? Two-thirds of cases do, before they even reach a courtroom.”

“Of course, you would know that,” she says with a smile, but then it frays a bit as she adds, “I don’t think Yvette is the settling type.”

I agree with Zoey. “Yvette’s looking for the biggest payout and is willing to do anything to get it.” I remember the look in Yvette’s eyes when she came to my office—flat, cold, unfeeling. I don’t like the idea of Yvette being in the same room as Zoey.

If anything goes wrong, from a smoke detector going off to a herd of invading chickens, Zoey’s going to blame herself, believing her curse is striking again.

But I really do think Yvette will do anything for this money. She already killed for it, and that makes her dangerous. Much more so than I thought when we started this Scooby Doo investigation.

But I swallow that down, not wanting to scare Zoey any more than she already seems to be.

“So, what do we do?”

“Nothing.” Zoey looks up at me in surprise so I repeat myself. “Nothing. We’re box checkers, remember? We tell the truth and let the judge do his job.” That’s my new mantra. I only hope it’s enough. “That’s all we can do.”

Zoey is so quiet, I can almost hear her mind playing out scenarios and stressing over them. I squeeze her and run my hand along her arm soothingly. “Can we let that stay in the future and enjoy what’s left of tonight? I’ve been dreaming of holding you like this.”

“Me too,” she confesses quietly. “I was afraid you’d forget about me with a whole week apart. Or decide I was too much work.”

That’s enough for me to pull her up to straddle my hips. I cup her face, pinning her with my gaze. “You and me, Zo. I’m okay, you’re okay, we’re okay. I promise.”

It’s a bit self-help-ish as far as speeches go, but Zoey’s eyes drift closed and she takes a big breath, as though she can inhale my calm reassurance and use it to soothe her own worries.