“What could they be looking for?” I ask, keeping my voice low.

He keeps his eyes straight ahead, watching them with just as much skepticism as they did us. “No idea.”

“Why would they even come here? How’d they get a warrant when they have nothing on me?”

“I don’t know. Just stay calm. You didn’t do anything. You’re good.”

Glover steps out of my closet with something in her hand and shoots me a specific glance—disbelief, worry, shock, maybe a blend of all—before begrudgingly calling out. “Bierman.”

I go hard and still, a concrete wall right before it gets pulverized by a wrecking ball. Something’s wrong. I can hear it in her voice. And that look. What was that weird look? It almost felt like she looked at me like I’d betrayed or disappointed her somehow. It was so strange.

Bierman steps out of the bedroom. Glover holds up a small plastic bag filled with white powder. He snatches it from her hand. “Holy shit.” His eyes drop as he analyzes the contents, then he looks directly at me. “Don’t know what’s more shocking. That this was so easy or that you were right for once.”

He’s clearly talking to her, but his eyes never leave mine. I’m so confused. I’ve never seen that little bag before. Never.

I feel Nate staring at me, but I can’t look at him. I glance back up at Bierman. He looks smug.

“That’s not mine.” He raises a brow and I snap, “I don’t even know what that is.”

He takes a few steps toward me, holding the bag up as if I couldn’t already see it clearly. “Looks a lot like it’s a few grams of potassium cyanide.” His expression turns rueful, amused, but he quickly frowns. “The same poison that was found lining Simon Van Doren’s drinking glasses in the room where he died.”

My heart plunges into my stomach. I can’t make sense of any of this.

Then I remember I haven’t done anything wrong.

I fold my arms across my body and try to sound as sure as I can. “Well, it’s not mine.”

Glover moves beside him. “Then whose is it?” The question is sharp, jagged, but there’s something in her eyes that tells me she’s open to hearing me out.

But I don’t say anything. I don’t know.

I don’t fucking know.

I have no idea what the fuck is happening.

Bierman and Glover both shift their glares to Nate as if commanded by some invisible force.

His eyes widen. “I’ve never seen that before in my life.” It sounds like a lie. It does. But I know it’s just the nerves. I probably sound like I’m lying too.