Page 65 of Grim’s Angel

Anthony’s cooperation reduced his sentence and led the task force to two other trafficking networks. Since his release, he has paid legal and relocation expenses for women identified through Rivers’s server.

He provides evidence of every payment and makes no request for contact.

Grim has never answered.

I put the envelope in my drawer.

“Lock called,” he says. “Alan’s appeal was denied.”

“Good.”

My phone vibrates.

The message comes from an unfamiliar number, but the first line identifies the sender.

Your father and I have lost everything because you refuse to help your own family.

My mother has discovered prepaid phones.

Persistence is her most developed maternal trait.

I delete the message and block the number.

Grim watches me. “Them?”

“New number. Same shit.”

“You okay?”

“Yes.”

He accepts the answer because I mean it.

Rivers will die in federal prison. Alan has twelve years to consider the disadvantages of selling his sister. My parents have a rental house and an endless supply of misplaced blame.

I have somewhere else to be.

Grim looks at the soup still folded inside the bag.

“You’re not eating.”

“I intend to.”

“You look sick.”

“I am aware that you consider observation a substitute for tact.”

“Angel.”

He always says it differently when he is worried. Rougher. As if the name itself can pull me close enough to protect.

His attention moves to the untouched coffee on my desk.

Then to my hand.

I have placed it over my stomach.

Again.