I push aside the fact that my face and hair are a mess. I want one night. One night of not thinking about crime, or death, or doing the right thing. I inhale slowly. It's a night I can't afford to take. I know if I do, there will be no going back.

"Everything," I tell him. His eyes go dark.

It's my turn to qualify. "The sandwich, just put everything on it, please."

He finishes making our sandwiches. The entire process is calm and methodical and seems to be a ...