Chapter 18

The cab smelled like lemon-scented wipes and the kind of perfume that pretends it's not trying too hard. Nicole rode with Anders and Camille, shoulders hunched under an old wool coat she hadn’t meant to wear out in public. Her stomach felt like a little drum — not angry, not quite content — just a reminder that everything she did now had another witness inside her.

Elena’s building looked like it had been forgotten on purpose: a narrow row-house with a mail slot that ...