“Don’t delete a single file off that phone,” Javier told them.

“And get that cup to the lab for priority testing — chain of custody documented every step.” I was midway through my written statement when the lobby doors swung open and Dario and Blanca hurried in together.

Dario crossed the room toward me with an expression of frantic, loving worry.

“Thank God,” he cried.

“Marnie, what happened?

We were terrified when you ran off—” Javier stepped between us, and for just a fraction of a second, before he caught himself, Dario’s eyes went flat and cold.

Then the warmth snapped back into place, and he turned to the intake officer and began, smoothly, to explain.