“Sir, I will deliver the money to you in that office.” Not so much a question as a demand. He gathers up the piles of cash and drops them into a zippered bank bag. “We’ll have more privacy there.”

I turn, taking in the space around me, all of it empty. Even the security guard has moved on, disappearing with his rattling keys behind a padlocked door. I am the last man standing. We have all the privacy in the world.

The teller leans the Next Window Please sign against the glass and takes off with my bag of cash. I match him step for step, following him down the glass until he disappears behind a wall. A few seconds later he steps out of a door farther down, the bag of cash tucked under an arm. I hustle to the office, where he flips on the light and closes the door.

“Mr. Lasky, are you aware that according to the Bank Secrecy Act, we are required to report cash withdrawals of $10,000 or more to the IRS?”

I plop into one of the chairs, thinking how to best respond. No police. That’s what Jade said. She said at the first sign of sirens, the man will start shooting, and he’ll start with the Bees. A fresh wave of panic climbs my chest at the thought.

I can’t let that happen. He said no police.

The IRS, on the other hand. The IRS is a bureaucratic behemoth, like most governmental agencies only speedy when they’re on the receiving end. It’ll takes weeks, months even, for them to follow up on this report. It’s already past five. The earliest they could get to it is tomorrow morning. All I need is a few hours.

“Okay, fine.” I stretch a hand across the desk. “Report away.”

On the chair across from me, the teller grips the bag of cash with both hands. He’s not blind. I watch him clock my sweaty face, the leg I can’t seem to stop jiggling, my frenzied eyes with a bank robber’s glint. He knows something is wrong. I might as well be wearing a sign: “Meth addict, need money for drugs.”

“I am also required to ask why you want such an unusually large amount of cash.”

I frown, my chest going hot. “It’s my money. Am I not allowed to withdraw however much of it I want?”

“Of course you are. But I am required to include the reason for the withdrawal in my report, and refusing to provide one will result in a denial. Either way, I still have to report you to the authorities.”

I breathe through a sour slice of panic and try to come up with an explanation that will result in me walking out of here with that money—my money. Something legal, something that won’t send up an immediate red flag with the police.