“I think the killing has stopped. If people were still being shot, the cops would force their way in. But if they’re not, the cops will try to negotiate.”

How long could that take? The sweaters under Javier’s leg are already splotched with red. He needs a better bandage than a couple of sweatshirts.

And Miranda knows just where she can find one.

She slips her hand under her loose sweater and inside the wide Ace bandage wrapped around her torso. No one’s looking her way, so she pulls out the boxes of Clinique mascara and hides them under the pile of sweaters. When she straightens up, she sees that Javier is watching her, but his face doesn’t hold any judgment.

Miranda does the math. If this hadn’t happened, she would be on her way to Matthew now. If this hadn’t happened, soon she would be handing over everything she stole in the past few days. Soon she would be feeling so much better. Or rather, she wouldn’t be feeling anything at all. Instead, now she’s in withdrawal. Shivering, she swipes at her nose with the back of her hand.

“Don’t cry.” Javier’s the one with a bullet wound, but he’s trying to console her.

“I’m not.” Miranda’s eyes are wet, but she’s telling the truth. She tugs the Ace bandage free.

Suddenly, Grace raises her phone to her ear. Her face changes. “Daddy!”

Even as everyone signals her to keep her voice down, they all lean forward to listen.

Then the light in Grace’s eyes dims and the joy leaves her voice. “Oh. Okay. Daddy, if you hear this message, first of all, I want you to know that I love you. Okay? I love you very much. I’m at Fairgate Mall in Portland. Oh, Daddy, there’s men with guns and they’re shooting people.” Her voice cracks. “And … and … and Mom’s dead. They killed her.” She swallows. “And now I’m hiding with a bunch of people in a Culpeppers. In the storeroom.” Her whisper is strangled. “And no matter what happens, just know that I love you and Emily so, so much.” She hangs up, puts her hand over her eyes, and starts to cry again.

Cole moves closer and puts his arm around her shoulders. “I’m so sorry you’re going through this.”

“It’s not your fault,” she chokes out.

Grace’s failure to connect is a fresh reminder of how alone they are. Miranda looks away from her naked pain. She feels so helpless, but maybe there’s still something she can do. “Can one of you guys help me with Javier’s leg? It’s still bleeding.”

Cole gives Grace’s shoulder a squeeze before releasing her and coming over. He leans down. “How’re you feeling, buddy?”