Wilson lets out a shaky breath. “That’s a very serious offense. If you three are caught, you’ll go away for a long time. Carrie too. There’s no mercy for escapees—not when the feds are involved.”
A heavy silence settles. My shoulders slump. For the first time, I let myself think about what might happen to Carrie if we lose.
But then Wilson’s voice softens, and he glances around the room. “Unless…unless you can prove Rodriguez is dirty. If you get dirt on him—show that he was working with Jinn, that he set you up, that your lives were in real danger—then you’d have a chance. Under extraordinary circumstances, with enough evidence, you could make the case that you had no choice but to run.”
Hope flickers in my chest. It’s not much, but it’s something.
Nico leans forward, eyes sharp. “Where do we start?”
Wilson rubs his temples, still looking like he wants to disappear. “Getting proof on a federal agent isn’t easy. Rodriguez covers his tracks. And if Jinn is hiding, it’s because Rodriguez set it up. They’re protecting each other.”
Nico crosses his arms. “There’s always something. People like Rodriguez get careless when they think they’re untouchable.”
I press, not letting Wilson off the hook. “You must have contacts. Friends in law, someone who can help.”
“Marcy said Rodriguez tried to arrest Jinn a while back,” Nico explains. “Someone tipped the ATF off about a drug deal. That’s where they first crossed paths. They started working together shortly after that, at least that’s what we presume. That’s when the setup started.”
I watch Wilson’s reaction, looking for any flicker of recognition. “You think Rodriguez has done this before?” I ask.
Wilson sighs, rubbing his chin. “Wouldn’t surprise me. Some agents build their whole careers on controlling the right informants. If Jinn had something Rodriguez wanted, or was willing to pay for protection, that’s motive enough.”
Nico leans forward. “We need to find proof. Bank records, some kind of a digital trail, whatever connects Rodriguez to Jinn. There has to be something—some mistake he’s made.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Wilson heads toward the door, glancing back at us. “Lay low, both of you. Don’t even poke your heads out unless I say it’s clear.”
He slips out, closing the den door quietly behind him.
I sit back, staring at the old family photos on Wilson’s walls, and for the first time in a while, I start to believe we might actually have a chance.
We makeour way back to the outbuilding, cutting through wet grass, the early sun glinting off the dew. The morning isquiet except for the distant sound of a passing truck and the muffled birdsong around us.
Carrie’s feet are poking out from under the blanket, cold and a little red from the chill in the outbuilding. I settle down on the floor beside her and gently rub them between my palms, trying to bring some warmth back. She laughs softly, and her shoulders drop a little as I work.
Nico comes over, a small glass bottle in hand. “We grabbed this at the market on the way back. Said it’s good for your nerves,” he says, handing it to Carrie. “Figured you could use something sweet.”
She takes it with both hands, her eyes going soft. “Thank you, Nico.” She unscrews the lid and sips, closing her eyes at the taste.
After Carrie settles in and Nico sits down beside her, I stand and catch Jace’s eye. He’s still lingering by the door, arms folded, gaze distant. I walk over and lower my voice. “Is there something you wanted to say?”
Jace glances at me, shakes his head, then looks away. “No, it’s nothing.” He runs a hand through his hair and changes the subject. “What did Wilson have for us?”
I keep my answer tight. “He’s got some contacts in town. He’s going to talk to a guy in IT, see if he can dig up anything on Rodriguez. Said if we can prove the feds set us up, we’ve got a chance. Otherwise, we’re screwed.”
Jace snorts. “We can’t trust Wilson. He’s scared, and he’ll say anything to save his own ass. If Rodriguez so much as breathes down his neck, he’ll flip.”
I nod, knowing he’s probably right. “So what do you want to do?”
Jace finally looks at me, his jaw tight. “We need our own plan. Something solid. If Wilson comes through, great, but wecan’t hang our whole future on a guy who left us the second things got tough.”
I look over my shoulder at Carrie and Marcy on the couch, Nico watching them, and Whale at the window. The whole world feels like it’s balanced on a thread.
Jace’s voice is low but sure. “We have to be ready for anything. That’s how we stay alive.”
I meet his gaze and nod, feeling that old, familiar determination settle in my chest. “You’re right,” I say.
We’re still standing near the door when Marcy walks by, rubbing her arms. She looks distracted, almost nervous.
Jace stops her. “Hey, Marcy. Can I see your phone for a second?”
