Page 77

Very helpful conversation.

I get in the driver’s seat, set the box on the floor in front of the passenger seat, and wedge it between two bags, so it can’t slide around.

Then I look back at Kamden.

The receiver was live when Sherry found him staring at the empty shoebox earlier, so I know what happened.

I heard enough.

The money was gone.

Thousands of dollars he spent years saving, taken because Sherry decided anything beneath her roof belonged to her.

I heard Kamden break.

Then, after Sherry dismissed every bit of devastation she caused, he walked out carrying the only things she hadn’t managed to take from him.

Something dark and possessive settles in my chest.

He doesn’t need that house anymore.

He doesn’t need her money either.

Or rather, his money.

I’ll replace it.

Every cent.

More than every cent.

That thought comes so naturally that I almost laugh.

Kamden spent years saving forty-seven hundred dollars.

I could transfer ten thousand tonight and not notice it missing.

Twenty would be more practical, considering he’ll need it for school.

Maybe fifty—

No.

I glance at him in the rearview mirror.

He’d probably have a panic attack if I handed him fifty thousand dollars.

We’ll work up to it.

The fact that I am already mentally budgeting for the future of a boy I kidnapped approximately three minutes ago should concern me more than it does.

I pull away from the curb slowly, my eyes sweeping our surroundings. No headlights flare to life behind us. No silhouettes emerge from doorways. We should be good.

Every few minutes, my attention flicks toward the rearview mirror.

Kamden’s head is still pillowed on my coat, blond hair stark against the dark fabric. The rabbit has slid slightly with the car’s motion, now nestled against his hip, but it’s still tucked beneath his slack fingers. His chest rises and falls in what seems like a steady rhythm.

I check it anyway.