He had never once imagined how un-alone a person can be, when the right person finally picks up the phone.

Chapter 8 — Breakfast

In the morning I was the weak little sister again, and I let myself be, because it was the last morning they would ever get to think it.

Julian poured coffee and smirked at me across the kitchen.

“Still playing government lawyer?” Chloe laughed her bright laugh.

“She pushes paper for the state and acts like she runs the FBI.” I buttered my toast and said nothing, and I let them have it, this last performance, while in my pocket my phone quietly finished uploading everything from the night before to an encrypted evidence portal that neither of them knew existed and neither of them could reach.

They had never once, in all these years, bothered to learn what I actually did for a living.