“I know.”
“Are you prepared for that?”
There was a time when I believed preparation meant having no fear. Now I knew better. Preparation meant knowing fear would come and choosing not to let it make the decision for you.
“I have spent ten years preparing,” I said.
Daniel nodded once.
Then his phone buzzed.
He looked at the screen, and the color in his face changed.
“What is it?” I asked.
He turned the phone slightly toward me.
A message from an unknown number.
Tell your client to stop before she loses more than money.
Beneath the words was a photograph.
Not of me.
Of my younger sister, Clara, standing outside the elementary school where she taught, one hand raised to shade her eyes from the sun.
My lungs tightened.
