“She’s at the farm now,” Aaron said. “She went there to pack up his personal papers before the lawyers could get them. She doesn’t know they are coming to burn the place.”

“We have to go,” I said, opening my passenger door. “Get in.”

Aaron climbed into the car, and I got behind the wheel, my mind spinning with the danger of what we were about to do.

As I backed out of the space and headed toward the exit ramp, my dashboard screen lit up again.

It was an alert from the federal court filing system.

An emergency motion had just been entered by the defense firm, requesting an immediate injunction against me, listing my name alongside Aaron’s as a co-conspirator in a national security breach.

My phone began to ring, the screen displaying the name of my former supervisor at the Department of Justice.

I tapped the steering wheel button to answer the call.

“Marcus,” I said, keeping my eyes on the wet asphalt as I accelerated down the highway ramp.

“Grace, what the hell are you doing?” Marcus’s voice was distorted by the car’s Bluetooth speaker.