ERIC WESTIN’S OFFICE

The car feels foreign and out of Jason’s control on the entire drive over to Eric’s office. He hits the accelerator too hard and brakes too roughly; the other vehicles’ glaring red brake lights seem to burst into the night out of nowhere at all. If he had his way, he would not be driving at all, but Brent, who is now seated behind him, insisted that it is crucial, that it has to appear that only Helen and Jason are in on this. By the time he parks on the street outside the building that houses Eric Westin’s office, it seems like a miracle that they made it unscathed.

“Here,” Brent says, handing the bag to Helen, who sits in the passenger seat.

Jason has avoided looking at her the entire drive, but now he steals a glance. She looks pale, gray all over. Good, he thinks. She deserves every moment of misery she gets from this.

“I’m so sorry about this,” she says, holding the duffel bag in her lap.

“Just go in and give him the money! Get Sophie back!” Jason shouts.

“Hey.” Brent places a hand on Jason’s shoulder. He resists the urge to shrug it off. He is tired of people putting their hands on him, the silent code for “Calm down.” How in the hell is he supposed to calm down?

“What if he asks to count it?” Helen asks.

“Unless he looks at it under a microscope, it’s fine,” Brent says. “The outside bills in each stack are real. The counterfeits are only on the insides of the stacks. Don’t worry about it.” She nods dutifully and reaches for the door handle. “Just give Eric the money and get back down here,” Brent says. “Jason and I will be out here waiting. I have the address that he gave you over the phone. We have an unmarked car already there, and we’ll head over once you and Eric leave.”

Helen sighs and opens the door. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Great,” Jason mutters. Helen gets out of the car, and she pushes the door too weakly behind her. It clinks into place, not fully closed.

“Goddammit!” He reaches across the passenger seat and opens the door, only to slam it closed harder. He sees Helen startle and look back before she enters the building.

“I know this means very little right now,” Brent says, leaning forward, “but try and stay calm. We all have to play this cool, or we risk setting this guy off.”

“I’m trying.” Jason lets his hands fall from the steering wheel. “Do you really think this is going to work?”

“I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that it does.”

Jason notes that it is not exactly a promise.

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