"And done," I said as I hit submit on the paper for my ethics class the next morning.

It hadn’t ended the way I planned, and I was pretty sure my professor didn’t expect to spend his weekend reading about mob management practices, but I figured it was at least worth a B+. I’d written it while being kidnapped and shot at, so I deserved credit.

"How does it feel?" Frankie asked as I closed my laptop.

"How does what feel? The fact we survived ...