So you wouldn’t freak out like you are right now. “He’s in Atlanta,” I say, thinking about Tane wired to explosives somewhere in the city, Finn holding his finger over the detonator. “Do you know anything about the rest of the money? Where it might be?”

Yousef shakes his head. “Just the money I found on my porch.” He looks around the restaurant as if he has just woken up and is seeing it for the first time. “What happens now?”

“You go back to your life,” I say. “And I go home and deal with Finn.”

I THINK ABOUT driving straight to the airport and calling Gus to tell him his sister’s car is in long-term parking, because I don’t like goodbyes, but it’s too much of a bitch move. And when I pull over to call Tyler the pilot on the number he gave me last night, he says the earliest we could leave today is two PM, and it’s just after ten o’clock now. So I have no excuse not to return the car.

At a Sunoco I fill up the tank and then call Ethan to leave him a message. To my surprise, he answers the phone. “Everything okay?” he murmurs.

“Yeah, fine,” I say. “Why are you muttering?”

“Because I’m in the hallway outside my classroom.”

“I was just going to leave you a message.”

“Your number came up on my phone so I ducked out in the hall. What’s up?”

“I met Yousef. The translator. He said Dad did steal the money, but he also said Dad wanted to give the money back. That’s why Dad called the DoD—he wanted to turn the money over to them.” Saying the words aloud make me feel a bit better. It’s absurd, but I can’t deny the feeling of relief at my father’s motives.

“So what happened?” Ethan asks.

“I’m not sure. Yousef said he called Dad a year later, after Yousef got to the States, and Dad was upset about the money, said nobody wanted it. Said it was cursed. Do you remember anything about this?”

“No. Why wouldn’t they want the money?”

“Beats me.”

“You could call and ask them,” Ethan says.

“Well, shit, I shoulda thought about that already.”’

“You’re welcome. Better get on it. You gotta call Finn at five o’clock.”

“Don’t rush me. I’m flying back this afternoon. Should land around four thirty. What are you teaching?”

Ethan says nothing for a moment. “You want to know what I’m teaching.”

“I’m making light conversation.”

“About my teaching?”

“I’d like to talk to my brother about something other than a psychotic asshole who’s got me out looking for millions of dollars that said asshole stole with our dad. From Iraq. So yeah, what are you teaching?”

“Paradise Lost.”

“You’re making your students read Paradise Lost in summer school?”