Annabelle took the case of empty rice vials back to the lab the next morning. It needed to be returned to David Fairchild so he could find someone else for the task. It was awful to have failed, but at least she’d tried. She’d given it her very best, and that was all God could ask of her.

But then . . . had she truly given it her best? A stronger woman wouldn’t have lost her temper. A wiser one might never have betrayed Gray’s trust in the first place. But surely God didn’t judge her by counting her weaknesses and failures, but rather by her honest effort to live in a manner that would make Jesus proud. She had prayed, wept, and struggled over her choices, but she still wasn’t proud of her actions, so how could Jesus be?

The demoralizing thoughts hammered her as she climbed the steps toward the third-floor laboratory and almost bumped into her supervisor.

“You have a visitor,” Mr. Bryant said curtly. “I told her your workday begins in ten minutes, but she won’t leave. I trust you will conclude your business quickly.”

“Of course,” she replied.

Who could be visiting her? It couldn’t be Elaine, because she’d just dropped her sister off at the Library. She turned into the lab, a curious smile on her face, ready to——

She froze. Caroline Delacroix sat in Annabelle’s chair, glaring at her with a coldness that practically leapt across the lab to slap her in the face. Every instinct urged Annabelle to turn and run, but Horace Greenfield was watching. Besides, she’d faced down far bigger challenges than Caroline Delacroix.

“Hello, Caroline,” she said, ignoring the hostility in the air as she set the box of collection vials on the lab table. “What can I do for you?”

Caroline’s hard eyes glittered as she stood and closed the distance between them. “You owe me something,” she said in a deadly calm voice.

No doubt, but this wasn’t a conversation to have in front of the biggest chatterbox in all of Washington. “Let’s go downstairs to discuss it,” Annabelle said.

Caroline gave a regal nod and followed her downstairs to the cafeteria, still empty at this time of morning. The lights weren’t even on, and only a little weak sunlight filtered in through the single window. Dozens of empty chairs and tables were available, but this didn’t seem like a social call.

Caroline got straight to the point. “My brother is rotting in prison because of you,” she spat. “Even though he’s trapped in a dank, miserable cell, he has asked for only one thing of his family, and I’m going to make it happen even if it kills me. Sadly, I need your help.”