The black thought slips into my mind like a monster, ringing loud and clear in my sister Ruby’s ever-cynical voice. There’s no way he’s taking you to your kids, Jade. If you believe him, you’re a bigger fool than I thought. It hits me as a prophecy because she’s right. No matter what I do or say, he’ll never follow through. I know it with gut-punching certainty.

Bend to this man’s will, gain his trust, catch him off guard. That’s the plan. It’s not a great plan, but it’s the only plan I’ve got. I stare up at him, looking him straight in the eye. All I have to do is cooperate for now and wait for the exact right moment.

I swallow and speak the words he wants to hear. “What do you want me to say?”

J A D E

4:07 p.m.

Cam picks up on the second ring, his voice bleating from the speaker of my iPhone.

“Yo, babe, I was just thinking. With Bolling Way in ashes, why don’t we get away? Just you and me and a sunny Caribbean island. What’s the one with the pink sand again? I’ve always wanted to see that.”

“Cam.”

“There’s nothing I can do here anyway. Flavio can handle things with the insurance, and honestly, I could use a break. Everything was already so nutty, and now this fire. If I don’t take a minute to step away from this craziness, I’m going to crash and burn.”

His voice is tinny, ringing with Bluetooth and high-speed wind. I picture him flying down Peachtree in his truck, clueless I’m calling for what is essentially a ransom call. If only he would stop talking long enough for me to tell him.

“Cam.”

He yammers on—about the fire, a former sous-chef leaning out of an upstairs window, karma.

“Omigod, would you shut up?” This time I scream into the phone. I scream so hard the back of my throat catches fire.

He stops midsentence.

“Stop talking and listen to me, okay? This is an emergency.”

There’s a long, empty beat of airy silence. “Is this about that skeevy guy again, because—”

“No, but I need you to listen carefully.” I stare at my husband’s name on my iPhone screen, and I want to scream. I want to cry. I don’t want to be making this call. “There’s a man here, at the house. He says that—”

“A man. What man? Who?”

If only I knew. I’ve spent the past hour asking myself the same question, flipping through mental headshots of Cam’s salaried staff, the chefs and general managers I’ve met throughout the years, but there were a lot and the restaurant business is notoriously fluid. Talent bounces around, floating from restaurant to restaurant based on the latest newspaper reviews and Glassdoor rankings.