I duck back into the shadows on the opposite side of the street as I watch a man, a muscled guy in a wife beater, chat with the officers. Carlito. His gaze is darting around looking for someone.For me.

Okay, Emerald. You can do this. Just got to find a new way to deliver the goods.

Waiting for the police to leave isn’t an option. They linger after they question people, especially when it’s something to do with dodgy guys like Carlito.

I drag a hand through my hair.It’s going to be fine. It’s got to be fine.Because if I get caught, there’ll be no one to watch the kids. And then Child Protective Services will split us up, and the life I’ve been trying to build for us will disappear faster than a single blink of my emerald eyes.

And that’s not happening. Not today. Failing this simple task isn’t an option. I can hear the sea of whispers already if I have to slink back to Ronnie with the guns still in my possession.Untrustworthy. Just like her father. Worthless. Useless.

The words sting even in my mind. I dig my nails into my palms. I’m more than my father’s daughter. And I’m not letting myself fail.

I stare at the location again. It’s a typical row house. There’s got to be a way around this.Think, Em.It’s obvious they don’t have a warrant, or they’d already be inside his house and turning it upside down.

If I can get in, swipe the money, and leave the guns, I’m scot-free. It’d be simple if it wasn’t so goddamn risky.

I squint as I imagine all the moves in my mind, examining the situation like I would a chessboard.

All possible moves and endgames.

Looking at how I can keep control of this game.

Because that’s the only way I can protect myself in this murky world…

And there it is.

The way I can get in.

There’s an alley out back. That means squeezing between the small gap between the houses. But I’ll do whatever it takes if it means I can complete the job.

I move out from the shadows and into the bodies that move up and down the sidewalk. I catch Carlito’s eye as I pass on the opposite side of the street.

He gives a small tilt of his chin before narrowing his beady eyes to the officers.

My foot taps at the crosswalk, waiting for the hand to switch to the walking man. Three…Two…One…

I stay in step with the other bodies crossing the road. Nothing looks more suspicious than trying to race across the street when others are just moseying on by.

Approaching Carlito’s house, I hold my breath as I duck into the gap between the buildings.

It’s so narrow. My hoodie snags. I press the bag to my chest and shimmy through the passage, stopping to listen.

Nothing.

My lips purse. I can taste the sweat on my upper lip.

Then I hear one of the cops take one heavy step nearer, then another.

I plaster myself to the wall.

“Where are you going, pig?” Carlito’s mocking voice floats toward me.

I wait a few moments, not even daring to breathe, before peeking around the corner.

The cop’s back is to me now, heading back to where Carlito stands, hands on his hips.

I swallow the bile burning my throat and make my way into the back alley, careful not to make a single sound.

I edge the gate open, careful to lift the creaky latch only a centimeter at a time, cringing with every single squeak it makes.