Not when I woke up.

Not when I heard the recording.

It was when Sebastian told me, in that quiet room, that the hospital itself had nearly finished the job, and I understood that safety was not a place I could find.

It was a thing I would have to make, alone, out of evidence and nerve, and trust no one to hand me.

I called Olivia Rourke, my closest friend from college, who had become a private investigator in Washington.

I told her what had happened in as few words as I could manage, and I heard her go very quiet, and then very focused.