And the split? Horace asked.

Sixty for me, forty for you.

Reuben first.

Then, unfortunately, Marceline has her accident.

I had known all of it already — the tracker, the burner, the forged will, the car.

But there is a particular horror in hearing your own murder discussed as a line item, in the bored, businesslike tone of two men dividing money. Unfortunately, Marceline has her accident. He said my name and the word unfortunately in the same breath and meant neither.