But how much more?

I was panting heavily now, but I kept running, farther and farther and farther until I felt a pain in my side and my entire body cramped up. I veered off the path and raced toward a tree, placing my hand on the craggy bark as I leaned forward to gulp in the thick, hot air. My stomach turned over, and I thought I’d be sick, so I slumped down to the ground and waited a few beats.

“Hey, you okay?” a woman in a purple short set with a tennis racket asked, jogging over to me, but I put my hand up and nodded.

“I’m good,” I managed to get out, and she jogged away. The nausea was subsiding, and I took a few deep breaths.

I was still a good person.

Emma had murdered someone in a jealous rage, for goodness’ sake. I’d blackmailed someone for money, someone who (a) was not a nice person and (b) probably spent $180,000 a year on garage space for his cars.

I pulled myself up and then stumbled across the two-lane path, navigating around a pair of men jogging with no shirts and a biker who was bent forward as she barreled toward me.

“On your right!” she yelled, and I moved quickly out of the way.

I was breathing heavily as I walked away from the path and toward the street before fishing my phone out of my pocket and calling a DAC.

When I got home, I walked through the door, and the first thing I saw was Shelby standing next to her bed, watching me. I don’t know if she could sense my despair, but she took a small step forward. It was all I needed. I rushed over and sank down on the floor in front of her, wrapping my arms around her neck and burying myself in her fur. She was stiff, only for a moment, then she relaxed against me, nuzzling the side of my face.

I heard a noise and looked up as Keith appeared, rolling himself into the living room. I hadn’t let him come to the station with me; I’d needed to face it on my own. He looked at me expectantly, and I launched into a recap of the day. I told him everything that had happened—from the interrogation to Emma’s ultimate confession.

He stared at me silently, the same tension on his face that had been there the night before. When I finished, he finally spoke.

“Did you tell them about the money?”

I nodded quickly. “Of course,” I said. “I told them why I did it but that it was no excuse. And they said that they’ll be monitoring our accounts for a while.”

Keith opened his mouth to say something else, so I kept talking so as not to give him an opportunity to edge himself in.