The problem was, escape seemed impossible—at least at first. He’d considered and rejected a host of wacky ideas. A diversion was a common component of prison escapes, he knew, but with the FBI on high alert, the slightest disturbance would only tighten the protective cordon around him. Floating in an opium-derived cloud, Henry’s mind began to search for a more original solution. As the medical machines clicked and beeped around him, he recalled an older boy telling his underaged self how to sneak into adult bars. You walk in like you own the damn place, man. Show no fear. No doubt whatsoever. Henry had used this tactic many times as a journalist, and often gained exclusive access to restricted areas and crime scenes.

Might not that same tactic serve him now?

The next time Irma McKay returned to check his vitals, Henry gave her the saddest smile he could muster.

“How are you holding up, Henry?” she asked. “I’m so sorry about Sherry. I should never have told you. That wasn’t my place.”

“Yes, it was. Better to hear it from an old friend than from some grouchy government agent. It’s all right, Irma. I won’t tell anybody that you told me.”

“Really?” she said hopefully, making notations on his chart.

“Not if you’ll you do me one little favor.”

She looked up quickly, anxiety in her eyes. “I can’t get you no cigarettes, Henry.”

He laughed at the absurdity of her misjudgment.

“No, that’s not it. The FBI guys never brought me my cell phone. Maybe it’s evidence now or something. But I really need to talk to my mama. She’s got to be frantic by now.”

“I don’t know, Henry. The FBI doesn’t want anybody knowing anything about your status.”

“I know. But you know how this town is. The news is bound to be all over the place by now. Mama could hear it any minute. She might even hear I’m dead.” He shook his head, then regretted it as his skull pounded in response. “Sherry and Mama weren’t best friends or anything, but when word gets out … Lord, I hate to think what Mama might do.”

Irma patted his upper arm. “I know, Henry. You’re right.” The nurse reached into her scrubs pocket. “If you promise not to tell, you can use my phone. Will that help?”

“You’re a blessing, Irma.” He gratefully accepted the phone. “Um … is there any way you could give me a little privacy? I don’t want to—get emotional in front of you.”

“Oh, Henry. We see men cry all the time in this place.”

He closed his eyes and gently shook his head.

“All right. I’ll go in the boss’s private bathroom while you call.”