His thoughts spiraled through digital trails and security systems—things meant to remember. Crypto didn’t get fixed or reversed. Once it moved, it stayed moved. This wasn’t hiding a mistake. This was setting something in motion that he couldn’t stop.
He couldn’t not do it, either. Not if they had Tess.
He raked his hand through his hair, breathing fast.
Don’t call the police...
No—she hadn’t said it like that. She’d stressed the word don’t, hard enough to bend it, like she was trying to tell him the opposite without being able to say it out loud. It wasn’t because she meant it—it was because they were listening to everything she said.
Tess didn’t fear the police. She worked with them and trusted them. Most of all, she trusted Brian.
Andy did too.
The thought hit him like a heavy weight.
Yes, the guy was a detective—one Diego had specifically said not to call. But he was also... more than that. He wasn’t the one who’d handcuffed Andy and dragged him into the SBI office anymore. Now, he was pretty much Tess’s boyfriend. The guy who came over for dinner and invited Andy to watch movies with them. Who challenged him to video games because he actually enjoyed it. The one who didn’t treat him like an annoying, geeky teenager. The one who’d scored Rad-Robot Wars tickets and told Andy to bring a friend.
He checked the time on his phone. 6:07 p.m.
Tess had mentioned earlier that Brian was bringing over dinner tonight. A pizza or something. What time did she say?
He quickly tapped on the text app and looked at her last message.
Tess
Brian’s bringing over pizza @6:30 if you want to eat with us
Andy’s thumb hovered uselessly over the screen. He didn’t even have Brian’s number. The only way to reach him would be calling the SBI district office—and that was exactly what Diego had warned him not to do.
He swallowed hard, his pulse skidding. For a split second, he imagined dialing anyway. Dumping everything out in one breath. Begging for help.
Diego’s voice snapped back into his head—no cops. No detective boyfriend.
Fear cinched tighter. Andy shoved the phone into his pocket as he continued to pace, the boards creaking beneath his feet. He couldn’t call.
But if Brian showed up on his own...
That’s the same as calling the police. Right?
He turned that thought over and over in his mind, clinging to it like a loophole he could squeeze through.
Outside, a car drove by, the distant hum barely reaching the house. Waves pounded the shoreline. A gull screamed. The fridge hummed. The world stayed horrifyingly normal.
His brain wouldn’t stop replaying that thin, terrified sound in Tess’s voice. “Do what they say, Andy. Don’t call the police.”
He sank onto the arm of the couch, elbows on his knees, hands laced behind his neck. His breaths came short and shallow until he forced them longer, in through his nose, out through his mouth.
He had about twenty minutes before Brian was supposed to show. Maybe less. He also had no plan. No good options. Just a weakness and a threat.
A knock rattled the back door.
Andy’s head snapped up, his heart leaping into his throat.
For a split second, terror shot through him—they wouldn’t just come here, would they?
He pushed to his feet and crossed the room, each step feeling strangely disconnected from his body. He peeked through the curtain.
Brian stood on the porch, shoulders filling the doorway, a pizza box in one hand and a bag in the other.