“What’s wrong?” she whispered to me after my bag was x-rayed and I was waved through.

“A creep just pounced on me.”

“Someone you know?”

“Yeah. A Snapp client.”

“Did he rip your shirt?”

I glanced down. I was wearing a black shirt over a black tank top, and I hadn’t even noticed it lost a few buttons when Aubrey grabbed me. It didn’t look indecent, but Jude knew me well enough to realize it wasn’t a style choice. “Yeah, he did.”

“We can talk to the police here,” Jude said. “I’ll have an officer come to my office.”

“No, thanks. I already talked to the cops this morning. That’s enough for one day.”

“What happened this morning?”

We were at Jude’s cubbyhole of an office. She ushered me in and closed the door behind me. On the wall behind her was a framed degree from Georgetown University with Judeline Esther Lazare in black calligraphic script. There were a few photographs of Jude with boldface names in politics and entertainment. I spotted a framed coat of arms—the Haitian palmiste, with a lone palm tree and spears and cannons and anchors—and a lone hibiscus plant on her desk with a single flower in bloom. Everywhere, there were books.

“I went to the cops because . . . sorry, I should’ve told you this before.” My mouth was dry. It was hard to get the words out.

“Told me what?”

“I got a message from Caro when I was at her funeral yesterday.”

Jude’s expression was sheer astonishment. “How is that even possible?”

“It was an email she set up in advance.” The cop, Villaverde, had kept the printout I’d given him, so I found the message on my phone. Jude stared at it for a long time, frowning deeply. “I can forward it to you,” I offered.

“I’d say yes, but even my private emails can be subpoenaed.” She handed my phone back. “I can’t believe it. Why wouldn’t Caroline tell me she was in danger?”

“She didn’t say anything to me either.”

“It’s my own fault,” Jude said, wiping her eyes.

“How could it be?”

“I wouldn’t listen to her.” Jude grabbed a tissue and blew her nose. “She told me things—things she swore me to secrecy about—but I . . .” Her voice trailed off as I stared into space. “I didn’t understand how bad it was.”

“What did Caro say?”

“Months ago, we had lunch, and she told me she wanted a divorce from Theo,” Jude said. “I asked why, and she wouldn’t give me a direct answer. Of course, they were apart for much of the pandemic—you remember, right?”

“Sure, Theo stayed in Europe for months.”