He’d died on an especially golden October day. She’d been driving back to work after lunch out with donors, windows down to let in the beautiful weather, when she’d received a call from the prison. “Both Sides, Now” by Joni Mitchell had been playing. Immediately, she’d pulled to the shoulder of the road, rolled up her windows, and turned down the sound system so she could concentrate on the conversation. Thus, she’d heard loud and clear the news that her father—the one who’d loved her, defended her, believed in her, and placed her at the top of his priorities—was gone.

Every time she thought back on that moment, she heard the strains of the song she’d been listening to when the call came in. So many things I would have done. But clouds got in my way.

“I was the one playing checkers with him before his cardiac arrest,” Luke told her. “Everything happened just like you were told.”

“You were with him when he died?”

He dipped his chin.

“Was he in pain?”

“Some pain, yes.”

Grief stabbed her, clean and deep.

“But he wasn’t panicking,” he added. “He was speaking clearly—”

“Wait. Can you tell me exactly, word for word, what was said? I really . . . I just—it would help me to know every detail.” Luke had been beside her father—where she wished she’d been—during his final moments. She needed the details.

“After he collapsed, I bent down and asked him what was the matter. He said that it was his chest.”

“Okay.”

“I yelled for help, but I could see that the other guys and the guards were already on it. I tried to tell Ed to take it easy, but he interrupted me. He said that if he didn’t make it, he needed me to do something for him.”

Foreboding circled her ribs and squeezed.

“He was short of breath,” Luke continued, “but he managed to tell me that he’d set up a birthday treasure hunt for you. He said you’d open the first clue on January ninth. He said that he needed me to start work here before that date, then keep you safe during the treasure hunt because it might put you in danger.”

“Danger?”

“That’s what he said.”

She slid the ring on her middle finger up a few millimeters, then back down to meet the ring below it. Click. Up and down. Click click click. Dad had confided in Luke about the treasure hunt. He’d done so before she’d known of its existence, and he’d added a detail she hadn’t received: potential danger. “So, you told Dad that you’d work here and . . . keep me safe?”