He needed cash and was abruptly struck with a fresh worry. Grabbing his new prepaid smartphone from his pocket, he went to open his banking app, then realized he hadn’t downloaded it. He started the process, resigned to the fact that he’d have to add data sooner than he’d anticipated since he wasn’t connected to Wi-Fi.

Ephraim scowled at the phone as the app slowly downloaded. At least the phone had been easier to obtain than he’d thought, only requiring the bribe of beer and cigarettes to one of the kids sitting outside the store. The kid had bought him one flip phone, one smartphone, a pair of cheap binoculars, and several prepaid cards carrying data and minutes.

He could have gone into the store himself, but he hadn’t wanted to risk it, despite wearing one of the disguises he’d stolen that morning. He was certain that his own mother wouldn’t recognize him.

Of course, his mother didn’t recognize anyone anymore. She hadn’t known who he was the last three times he’d visited. He hadn’t been back in a long while.

And he wasn’t going to think about his mother right now. It was bad enough that she was dying alone with strangers. Should have taken her to Eden years ago. Should have been taking care of her myself all this time.

But he hadn’t. His brother hadn’t wanted her involved in their crimes, but his brother was long dead. Murdered by Gideon. Ephraim still remembered his mother’s tortured sobs when he’d come to give her the news. He’d offered to take her with him then, but she’d refused. Said she couldn’t abide the sight of the men who’d taken her son.

But, Ma, the boy who killed him is gone. Killed by Waylon Belmont, DJ’s father, when the boy’s mother stowed the two of them away in the bed of Waylon’s truck. When Waylon discovered them, he’d killed Gideon and brought Rhoda back for punishment. Or so he’d claimed. Clearly Waylon had lied to him too, because Gideon was alive and well. Enjoying his life while Ephraim’s brother rotted in the ground.

“You don’t understand,” his mother had cried. “I’m not talking about the boy who killed him, although I hope you’re right and that he’s dead, because if I ever found him, I’d kill him myself. I’m talking about the people who lured him there to begin with, who made him a prisoner for all these years. You both should be here, with me. Stay with me, son. Stay with me and don’t go back.”

But Ephraim had gone back, because the money that Pastor had been “managing for them” all these years was his, and he wasn’t leaving Eden until he got it. At least he’d been smart enough to safeguard the stipend Pastor gave him, moving as much as he could from his “Eden account” into a private bank account that neither Pastor nor DJ had access to.

The bank app had finally finished downloading and he quickly logged in to his Eden account. And blew out a breath that was part dismay, part frustration, but mostly fury.