“If Regina hadn’t shown me the video, I would never believe it, Duke. But I saw you. I cannot unsee it. And I can’t let her hurt you. That’s where your money has gone.”

“This is crazy! She’s blackmailing you? Is that what you mean?”

“Yes. She keeps coming back and asking for more money. What am I supposed to do? Let you go to prison?”

“I am not a murderer! Show me the video.”

“Regina has it, but I do have a copy on a flash drive. At the bank, in a lockbox. I can get it today.”

“How much has she suckered you for, Pops?”

“I’d say she’s been paid close to ten million. And now … now she’s asking for another fifteen.”

“No. No. No! This is just unbelievable!”

“On top of the massive legal fees, medical bills, and partying … we’re wiped out. We gonna have to sell the house.”

“I can’t handle this. It’s too much.” He had no words, no ability to plan, no route to dodge and weave. Regina. Releasing the sex video—which he desperately regretted making in the first place—and now a falsified video of the shooting? Why would she hate Duke so much, do this to him? She’d left him, not the other way around.

He stood and paced. Finally he stopped, placed both hands flat on the bar to hold himself up. His head hung in defeat. “I guess I have to go back to the quack at the clinic. What choice do I have? If I don’t get a steroid shot in my ankle before the pitching test, I’ll lose my job. And the house, I guess. Then what do we do? Sleep in the car? Or is that about to be taken away, too?”

“Listen, we’ll find a way. Sit down, son.”

Duke went back to pacing instead. “No matter what, Pops, I’m going to prove to you Regina has made some fake-ass video. I am getting that money back.”

“I believe you, okay? I’m sorry—I thought I was doing the right thing. But even if we can prove the recording is fake, as soon as you go after her, you got another scandal on your hands. We have to think this through. Carefully.”

“Okay. I’ll put the backstabbing bitch on the back burner, but just until I get through pitching tomorrow.”

“Right. One thing at a time. What’s your first move, you think?”

“I’m gonna have to get money for the doc.” Duke stopped pacing. “Maybe Roland will help. He fucking owes me.”

“Why’s that?”

Duke sighed. “Later, Pops.”

Angel tried handing Jose a sack lunch as he put his school stuff in his Pokémon backpack. He put his hands on his hips. “Mom, it’s Thursday.”

“Yeah? What’s that matter?”

“I told you! You signed the permission slip!”