“Arthur will be in a federal penitentiary within a month,” Julian said. “He will not have the resources to look for you.”

“Arthur has friends who do not care about federal laws,” I said.

“Those friends work for whoever has the money,” Julian said. “And after tonight, that will be me.”

He slid the checkbook an inch closer to the edge of the table.

“Take the money, Clara,” he said. “Buy a house in Spain. Change your name.”

“I like my name,” I said.

“A name is just a label on a folder,” Julian said. “You of all people should know that.”

I walked back to the table and picked up the disassembled pieces of the burner phone.

I began fitting the battery back into the plastic housing.

“What are you doing?” Julian asked.

“Checking the weather,” I said.

The phone screen lit up, casting a green glow over my fingers.

There were three missed calls from an unknown number.

I knew the pattern.

It was the specific code Arthur used when he wanted me to answer in the middle of the night.