My hands up.
“Marcus,” I said.
“Please.”
“Five minutes.”
“He won’t touch anything.”
“He won’t lay a hand on anyone.”
“Five minutes, and I’ll walk him out myself.”
Marcus looked at me.
Then at Nate.
Then at Owen, frozen by the glass doors.
He let go.
“Five minutes, Mrs. Cole.”
He stepped back.
He didn’t leave.
Nate was breathing hard behind me.
“Owen,” he said.
“Listen to me.”
“You have a son.”
“He’s three months old.”
“You go in there, and you lose everything.”
“Your license.”
“Your career.”
“Maybe your marriage.”
“For what?”
“I already lost mine.”
“It’s done.”
“Let it be done.”
“It’s not done,” Owen said.
“You’ve been living in a parking garage, Nate.”
“Your daughter’s college fund is sitting in the Harmons’ account.”
Nate flinched.
“How do you know about—”
“Lauren told me.”
Nate turned to me.
“You told him?”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Because he deserved to know what his silence cost.”
