Ephraim laughed. “No arguments? You must think I’m a fool.”

Rafe was busily texting. A glance at his screen showed he was communicating with Gideon. Good. The Feds might be able to track Farrah’s phone quickly.

“No, I know you’re a sadistic brute who doesn’t mind killing to get his own way,” Mercy said quietly. “I don’t want you to hurt my friends. I don’t want you to hurt anyone else. You want me? Fine. But you don’t touch my friends.”

“And if I already have?”

Rafe silenced the volume on his own phone before Ephraim’s words could draw more gasps from his parents. The Sokolovs could still hear Ephraim, but he wouldn’t know they were listening.

Mercy shivered, suddenly cold. “Then we’re done. I’m not trading myself for dead bodies.” Rafe glared at her, but she ignored him, focusing all of her attention on the snake on the other end of the line. “I want proof of life. Let me talk to Farrah Romero.”

“You don’t get to make demands,” Ephraim snarled.

“Shut up, Ephraim,” Mercy snapped. “You want me. I’m not sure why, but you’ve gone to a lot of trouble to get me. So, because of that, I do get to make demands. Let me talk to Farrah, or this conversation ends right now and whatever you’re trying to accomplish by getting me ends with it.”

She held her breath, counting her own heartbeats in the silence that followed, even checking that the call was still active. It was.

The silence was abruptly shattered by Farrah’s voice. “Mercy, don’t you dare. Don’t you dare trade yourself.”

There was the sound of a slap and a low, furious growl from farther away. André. André was still alive, too.

“Are you hurt, Ro?” Mercy asked.

“Not too bad. We’re all still breathing.” Then Farrah sneezed three times in quick succession. “I’m not breathing well, but that’s not Burton’s fault. I just need my allergy meds, that’s all.”

Mercy found herself smiling a little. Her best friend was smart. “Damien? He’s okay, too?”

“He’s lost some blood. He’s—”

“That’s enough,” Ephraim said roughly, taking back the phone. “You have your proof of life. If you want them to continue breathing, you’ll come alone. No cops. No Feds. No weapons.”

“And I’m supposed to just believe you’ll hand my friends over? No way. You’re a bastard and you lie easier than you breathe.” And suddenly she knew what to say. “I met your mother, you know.”

A beat of silence. “Yes. I know. You stole from her,” he said bitterly.

Mercy laughed, surprised to hear the sound. “Well, that’s open for interpretation, I suppose. You say stole, I say I got a present from her. I have her key, the one she kept in the little treasure chest that Amos made. She gave the key to me willingly. I let her keep the chest.”

Another beat of silence. “She wouldn’t have given it to you. She’s not in her right mind.”