“Let’s talk about Finch’s daughter, who’s now the sole witness to the first attack proceeding her father’s. Finch claims this is a coincidence, that she was at Navy Pier to honor her father’s service to the city. Do you believe her?”

I inhale a sharp burst of air.

“It seems too great a coincidence for her to be on that pier at the exact time and place of the first attack since her father’s murder.”

They flash to pictures of me leaving the mayor’s house. My Tory Burch coat. Cullen Henking and me outside my school.

Heat crawls across my skin.

“You’re saying that Miss Finch knew about the attack ahead of time?”

“I am, which also implies she successfully predicted what local city officials and the FBI could not. If I’m right, what she knows could be enough to reopen her father’s case.”

“Then why do you think Miss Finch doesn’t come out and share what she knows?”

“According to Steven Finch, these attacks are run by people with power, wealth, and resources. They pull off premeditated attacks without consequence and frame gang activity for them. If his theory is right, and Amelia Finch has information that threatens the Death Mob’s infrastructure, she could be at risk.”

Irwin smirks like this is amusing, an entertaining event. “Some might accuse you of being a conspiracy theorist.”

Emi nods. “Let me put it this way, Greg. If something were to happen to her, it would show the world that the Death Mob is bigger than any of us have speculated. Steven Finch’s case would be reopened, and I’d imagine the city of Chicago would be under a tighter federal investigation than our city has ever seen before.”

The video flashes back and forth between Greg Irwin and Emi Vega, who continue to talk like they’re experts on my life, but I don’t hear them. I can’t get past the fact that Emi just sold me out to millions of people as a liar and a marked girl.

I jump to my feet and pace. She’s going to get me killed. For whatever reason, I think of my mom and what another family death will do to her. Then I envision Emi beaming over her own success at breaking into the national market without giving a second thought to what this has done to us.

I grab one of the Chinese medicine balls and chuck it across the room. It crashes into the doors on our TV stand. Glass explodes like colorless fireworks, spewing shards around my living room floor.

I stand there in silence, immobile and terrified, barely aware of the neighbor’s dog barking like he’s about to lose his mind, when I hear the loud and sudden rapping on our back door.

Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14