I had never once imagined that skill would be the thing standing between my son and me and a shallow grave.

It was.

“You look pale, Marnie,” Dario said, setting his phone face-down.

“Drink your tea.

It’ll help.” “In a minute,” I murmured.

Blanca leaned in, her voice sweet as syrup.

“Drink it while it’s hot, dear.

It really does help with tension.” I made a show of digging in my bag for blood-pressure medication, just to buy a few seconds, and when Blanca rose to fetch me a glass of water from the kitchen, I caught Kai’s eye and tipped my head, the smallest motion, toward the hallway that led to Dario’s home office. Anything strange.