Chapter 2
They don’t exit together.
That’s the first real shock.
Saxton veers left without warning, yanking his arm out of her grasp, already blending into the crowd like this was rehearsed, like the plan always had an invisible second plan inside it.
Michelle stumbles.
Almost falls.
Someone shoves past her, annoyed, filming.
Her face burns. She can feel how she looks. How guilty she looks.
She spins, searching for him.
Gone.
The sirens now crashing in from every direction.
Her phone buzzes in her pocket.
Once.
Twice.
She doesn’t check it.
She runs.
Down an alley that smells like piss and fried food, her shoes slipping on something sticky, her lungs burning because she hasn’t run like this in years and because fear has weight when you let it sit in your chest.
A police cruiser skids into view at the end of the block.
Michelle panics and ducks into the first open door she sees.
A nail salon.
Too quiet.
Too bright.
Every head turns.
Embarrassment again. Immediate. Crushing.
She freezes.
A woman with perfect lashes stares at her, then at the blood smeared on Michelle’s sleeve.
“Bathroom,” Michelle blurts.
The woman points without speaking.
Michelle locks herself inside and sinks to the floor.
Her phone buzzes again.
This time she answers.
“Where did you go?” she demands, whispering.
Saxton’s voice is calm. Smiling.
“Phase two.”
“There was no phase two.”
A pause.
Then the first revelation lands.
“There was for me.”
Her stomach drops.
“You left me,” she says.
“You hesitated,” he corrects. “That gets people caught.”
That’s the betrayal. Clean. Surgical.
Michelle looks down at her hands, still shaking.
“What about the guard?” she asks.
Another pause.
Longer this time.
“He’s dead.”
The word hits harder than the gunshot did.
“That wasn’t supposed to happen,” she says.
“It happens,” Saxton replies. “And if you’re smart, you’ll let it happen without you.”
A knock on the bathroom door.
Police voices. Close.
Saxton keeps talking.
“I transferred half the money to an offshore account.”
Shock number two slams in.
“You what?”
“You’re welcome,” he says. “Your cut. If you don’t screw this up.”
Her vision blurs.
“You set me up.”
“I saved you,” Saxton says. “From yourself.”
The door rattles.
“Michelle,” a voice calls. “Open up.”
Saxton exhales softly into the phone.
“If they catch you,” he says, “don’t say my name.”
The line goes dead.
