She smiles thinly. “You can’t protect them forever.”
“No,” I agree. “But I can make sure you never try.”
I walk out.
Behind me, the door closes.
And for the first time in my life…
My mother is just another defendant.
87
Saint
Idon’t celebrate arrests.
I count reactions.
The call comes at 09:41.
“She’s in custody,” Marco says. “Financial seizure is live. Properties are locked. She didn’t fight it.”
“Yet,” I say.
There’s a pause. He knows what I mean.
“Not over,” he agrees.
“No,” I say. “It’s just louder now.”
I hang up and look at the board.
Routes. Times. Faces. Layers.
Wolf is already adjusting rotations.
Havoc is on the phone, rerouting a delivery truck that doesn’t exist.
“Laney doesn’t know,” Wolf says.
“She will,” I reply. “Just not like this.”
We move as if the building were made of glass.
I go upstairs.
Laney is in the rocker with Emmy, humming something soft and off-key.
It hits me harder than any firefight ever did.
“Hey,” she says when she sees me. “Everything okay?”
“For now,” I say.
I sit on the edge of the bed. And reach my hand over and tickle the baby’s tummy.
Emmy grips my finger like she will never let go.
