The next morning, the hospital called.
They needed a payment. Five thousand dollars. Today. Or they would move Keira's mother to a state facility.
Keira paced the small living room, chewing on her fingernail. The anonymous donation Dock had mentioned must not have cleared yet. Bureaucracy was a beast.
She had to go to her father. She had to beg.
Dock came out of the bedroom. He saw her face.
"What's wrong?"
"Money," Keira said. "I have to go to the Manor. I have to ask Edmon for the money he promised."
Dock's jaw tightened.
He went back into the bedroom. Keira heard him rummaging under the bed.
He came out holding a small, velvet box. It was faded, the blue fabric worn bald in spots.
He shoved it into her hand.
"Take this."
Keira opened it.
Inside was a heavy gold bangle and a ring with a large green stone.
The gold was dark with the tarnish of a century. The stone was dark, coated in a dull, waxy film, as if to deliberately hide its fire.
It looked old. And... well, cheap. Like costume jewelry from a thrift store.
"Dock," Keira said. "I can't take this."
"It was my grandmother's," he said. "If he won't give you the money, pawn it."
"No!" Keira snapped the box shut. "This is a family heirloom. I'm not selling your grandmother's jewelry for a few hundred bucks."
"It might be worth more than you think," he said dryly.
Keira looked at him. He was trying to help. He was giving her the only thing of value he owned.
Her heart swelled.
"I'll keep it safe," she promised. "But I'm not selling it. I'll get the money from Edmon."
"I'm not going with you," he said. "They won't let me in the gate."
"I know."
"Be careful."
Keira left the apartment, clutching the velvet box in her purse like it was the Crown Jewels.
Jonah watched her leave.
He waited thirty seconds.
Then he grabbed his keys and a black baseball cap.
He went down the back stairs to the garage where he kept the "beater."
It was a gray Ford sedan. Dented. Rusted.
But under the hood, it had a modified engine that could outrun a police interceptor. And the glass was bulletproof.
He followed the bus she took to the train station.
He watched her get on the Long Island Rail Road train, then pulled out onto the expressway that ran parallel to the tracks, keeping the train in sight.
He sat in the driver's seat, pulling his cap low.
Halfway to Long Island, he saw the train slow for a local stop. Through his binoculars, he spotted a guy in a hoodie eyeing Keira's purse.
Jonah saw the guy shift. He saw the glint of something in the guy's sleeve.
Jonah's hands tightened on the wheel. He couldn't do anything from here. He could only watch, his gut twisting into a knot of helpless rage.
The train doors opened. The guy in the hoodie seemed to think better of it, or maybe his stop was next. He got off the train and vanished into the crowd on the platform.
Jonah let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.
Keira didn't even notice. She was staring out the window, clutching her purse tight.
Protecting his grandmother's ring.
The ring was a Romanov emerald. It was worth three million dollars.
And she was protecting it because she thought it was all he had. She was a girl who had nothing, yet she was fiercely guarding a criminal's fake heirloom over her own survival.
Jonah pressed his foot on the gas**, a tight, unfamiliar ache blooming in his chest**.
"You're killing me, Keira."
