The woman's name was Agent Diane Foss.

She spread three documents on the kitchen table after the officers took Dad to a vehicle outside.

Mom sat across from her.

I sat beside Mom.

Nobody told me to leave, and I didn't move.

"Your cover is compromised," Foss said.

"We have maybe six hours before Hale's people confirm the address through secondary channels."

"Then we move tonight," Mom said.

"That's the plan.

But first I need to ask you something, and I need a straight answer." Foss looked at her steadily.

"When you told your husband about Victor Hale three years ago — how much did you tell him?"

Mom was quiet for a moment.

"Everything," she said.

Foss didn't react.

"Including the location of the backup evidence."

It wasn't a question.

Mom closed her eyes.

"Yes."

I looked at her.

"What backup evidence?"

Neither of them answered right away.

"Mom."

She opened her eyes and looked at me.

Really looked at me.

The way she did when she was about to say something she'd been holding back for a long time.

"Before I testified," she said carefully, "I made copies.

Of everything I had seen.

Everything I had documented.

I kept them somewhere safe — somewhere separate from the U.S.

Marshals' records — in case anything ever happened to me."

"In case Hale's people got to you," I said.

"Yes."

"And Dad knows where they are."

The silence answered me.

Foss leaned forward.

"Emily, this is important.

In the past week — before tonight — did you notice anything unusual?

Anyone near the house?

Any car that seemed to appear more than once?"

I thought about the blue sedan.

It had been parked across from school on Tuesday.

Gone on Wednesday.

Back on Thursday.

"There was a car," I said.

Foss and Webb exchanged a look.

"What color?"

"Blue.

Dark blue.

It had a dent in the front passenger door."

Foss wrote it down without looking up.

"Did you see the driver?"

"Once.

He had gray hair.

He was on his phone." I paused.

"He was looking at me."

Mom pushed back from the table.

"Diane." Her voice had changed.

"They already have eyes on her."

"We're aware."

"Then why are we still sitting here?"

Foss held up one hand.

"Because if we move without knowing whether Ryan gave Hale the location of that evidence, we could be walking your daughter directly into a secondary intercept."

The word intercept landed in my chest like something cold.

Mom stood up.

"Then ask him."

"We will.

But I need you to think carefully first.

Is there anywhere Ryan could have physically accessed that evidence?

Did he ever visit the location?"

Mom thought about it.

Her face changed.

"Once," she said.

"Two summers ago.

I told him it was a storage unit from before we moved.

He waited in the car." She stopped.

"But he would have seen the address on the receipt.

I left it on the dashboard."

Foss was already on her phone.

Webb moved to the window and looked out at the street without touching the curtain.

"Is there a back way out of this house?" he asked.

"Through the garage," I said.

"There's a gate at the end of the alley."

"Good." He turned around.

"Sarah — I need you to pack one bag.

Ten minutes.

Take only what Emily absolutely needs and whatever documents you cannot replace."

Mom was already moving toward the stairs.

I started to follow.

"Emily." Webb's voice stopped me.

I turned.

"The phone your mother gave you." He held out his hand.

"I need it."

I reached into my pocket and looked at it one last time.

One number.

One name.

Four words that had kept us alive tonight.

I placed it in his hand.

He looked at me with an expression I didn't fully understand then.

Later I would recognize it.

It was the look of someone who understood exactly how much that small phone had cost me — and exactly how much it had saved.

Outside, I heard a car door close.

Then another.

Then the blue sedan rolled slowly past the house without stopping.