“Want to stake me?” Daryl asked. “I’ll give you a cut.”

The guy laughed. “Thanks,” he said. “But I’m working, so I probably shouldn’t.”

“Working as what?” Chris asked.

“I work for my dad’s company, delivering supplies. I’m Dustin, by the way. Dustin Alberta.”

Teri tried not to swoon at the wonderfulness of this name—streets ahead of Ryan. Daryl introduced himself and his sisters. Dustin shook Parker’s offered hand gravely, like he was meeting the mayor. “I’m Teri,” Teri said, holding her free hand out. “The babysitter.”

“Nice to meet you,” Dustin said, shaking her hand. The second they touched, her pulse started racing. “Aren’t you guys kind of up past your bedtime?”

“It’s a long story,” Teri said.

“I think it just got longer,” Chris said, her voice low, her eyes worried. Teri looked—and saw that Gilroy was standing by the door, scanning the room.

Teri turned away, trying to think what to do. “Okay, we need to find a back entrance or something.”

“Everything okay?” Dustin asked, taking a step closer.

“We have to go,” Teri said. Her heart was beating double-time. She knew how dangerous Gilroy was. He had a gun, after all. And was willing to lie to children about being a federal employee. “Chris, can you go to the window and see if you can see our car? Slowly.”

Chris nodded, walked to the window, and then returned, looking scared. “There was a guy sitting on the hood. Dressed in black.”

“He’s with Gilroy,” Teri said. It was like the walls were closing in. “How are we supposed to get out now?”

“Leave it to me.” Dustin’s voice was so assured that Teri felt she could trust him. “Come on,” he said, as he headed across the room. “I know a back way.”

They followed Dustin, Teri keeping a firm grip on Parker, her eyes on the ground. They were nearly to the door when the yell rang out.

“Not so fast, rugrats!” Gilroy yelled. He was hurrying over to them, his face twisted into an ugly expression.

Teri grabbed Daryl and took a shaky breath. She locked eyes with all the kids. “Run.”

CHAPTER 20

Stevie

The cab’s meter was steadily ticking up—and so was my anger.

After my brief cry in the elevator, I was done with sadness. As the ride down to the Village continued, I could feel myself stewing, my resentment building up. Fine was the refrain echoing in my mind.

My dad cancelled my birthday dinner with only a few hours’ notice? Fine.

He lied to me about it and went to dinner with Joy instead? Fine.