“It is over, Sadie,” he said.

“They cannot hide anything anymore.”

We drove in silence through the cold Columbus night, the snow beginning to fall in light, powdery flakes.

The heater hummed, blowing dry air against my face.

We arrived at the police station thirty minutes later.

The lobby of the precinct smelled of wet wool and cheap floor wax.

Detective Harper met us near the metal detector, a thick manila folder tucked under his arm.

He looked tired, the dark circles under his eyes matching his charcoal suit.

“We have Melanie in holding,” Harper said, gesturing for us to follow him down a narrow hallway.

“Your parents were picked up trying to cross the state line near Wheeling.”

I stopped walking, my boots squeaking on the linoleum floor.

“Did they have the cash?” I asked.

“Most of it,” Harper replied, opening a heavy wooden door to an interrogation observation room.

“But more importantly, we have the ledger you brought in.”

Through the one-way glass, I saw Melanie sitting at a metal table.

Her mascara was smudged, and she had a grey wool blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders.