Page 110 of Gave Proof Through the Night

“That’s quite a bold claim,” Zoe says.

“Not if you consider how the greed of a few individuals was basically knocking over the world’s biggest economic domino line.”

Rue kicks her feet up on the sofa. “Wow.”

“How did you find all of that?” I ask.

Dale slides his glasses off in one smooth motion like Clark Kent transforming into Superman. “I’m an accountant. Finding numbers is what I do.”

“That’s my man,” Tanya says, beaming at him.

Dale clicks the keyboard. “Oh yes. I think the average everyday employee at Whitfield & Kane will be… juuuust… fine.”

Zoe stares at him a beat too long. “We created a monster.”

Dale takes his laptop over to the armchair, mumbling something about compiling all the data into a spreadsheet, and we all sit there dumbfounded for five minutes.

I finish my bagel, down the fresh-squeezed orange juice room service delivered, and look around at my crew. My heart is full. There are my people. Well, except for Jeremiah. I wish I could fold him into this part of my life.

I clear my throat and begin the morning-of address I always do. It’s more of a checklist, really, one which I probably don’t need to go over. My girls are the best in the biz. They’re ready.

I do it anyway, if only to calm my nerves.

“Suri.” I start with her because she’s got the hardest job tonight. “How are we on the biometric override?”

“Tested twice. We’re good.”

“Tanya. Keycards? Turndown cart?”

“All accounted for.” She pauses for a second. “I can’t believe I’m the maid again. I have a business degree.”

“Keep the uniform,” Dale calls from the armchair. “For the honeymoon.”

Tanya’s whole face goes pink.

“Rue,” I say, knowing she’s been practicing the swap with Suri’s forgery. “What’s your latest time?”

Her feet tap on the armrest. “One point five seconds.”

“For the extraction or replacement?” Zoe asks.

Rue gives her a dry look. “Both combined. Do I look like an amateur?“

“Just asking.”

“Ginger?” I call across the room. “What’s the code word you decided on?”

“Baguette,” she says in a ridiculous French accent.

Tanya snorts. “Baguette?”

Ginger blinks at her. “Erica will be eating dinner. It’s not a weird thing to say.”

“I’m still jealous you get to eat Beef Wellington bites,” Zoe says.

“I’ll get you a doggie bag,” I say.

“Anyway, what’s the code word for the Argentinians?” Zoe asks.