“By the end of the week,” I said, trying to sound confident. It didn’t convince either of us. “An equipment malfunction,” I said. I didn’t want to rat on Jackal, even as pissed as I was. “This time next week, we’ll be laughing at him.” I took another gulp of the drink and dared a glance at Lou’s face. She was staring at me like she’d didn’t understand what I was saying. I charged ahead. “I don’t know what the big deal is, one more week when it’s been three years—”

“Stop,” Lou said. The fan above her churned hot air vigorously enough that little auburn strands undulated above her head. She was staring past me, and her eyes had gone glassy and dark.

In all the scenarios I’d imagined on the drive over, I’d pictured Lou irritated—pissed, more likely—but I’d also figured we’d talk it through together. Work out a new plan.

I’d never imagined the look on her face now.

“I know it’s not ideal,” I started to say, but Lou cut me off.

“The Lady wants to retire you,” she said.

The sound that came out of me was between a cough and a laugh. “Yeah, sure,” I said. “What sort of 401(k) is she offering?”

Lou’s mouth was a tight, flat line. She reached for her purse and snapped it open. I watched her pull out everything inside—wallet, tampons, bullets and bullets of lipstick, even a piece of hard candy crushed into a thousand twinkling shards like a tiny butterscotch galaxy. Finally, she found her cigarette case and used trembling fingers to light up. It took her two tries.

She was scared, I realized. Lou was scared. I’d never seen it before.

“Come on, it can’t be that bad—”

“What do you think, Jo, the Lady sends us off with a tidy severance package when things ‘no longer work out’?” Lou gestured with her cigarette, and embers hopped onto the table where they flared and died. “Do you think girls like us get to go live quietly after this, dreaming of our wayward youth? Knowing what we know?” Lou shivered. It was infectious.