“I should have cashed out when we drew up that first fake ledger three years ago,” Dustin said.

“You made your choice,” I said.

Dustin zipped his light gray track jacket all the way up to his chin.

“They’re going to break both my legs when they find me,” Dustin said.

“Keep walking,” I said.

Dustin hoisted the heavy green duffel bag higher on his shoulder and turned toward the sidewalk.

I stood on the wet asphalt driveway and watched him walk away under the tall oak trees.

He didn’t look back at the brick house as he turned the corner and disappeared from sight.