His jaw was set in that rigid line I knew all too well.

“You will go to jail, Ryker,” I said, standing up to face him. “And then Marissa wins anyway because you won’t be here to fight her.”

Clara began to cry softly, covering her face with her thin hands.

“This is my fault,” Clara sobbed. “I should have hidden them better.”

“It is not your fault,” Ryker said, his voice softening just a fraction as he looked at her.

“We need a plan, and we need it now,” I said.

The phone in Ryker’s hand buzzed again.

He glanced at it and slid it into his pocket.

“Hannah Brooks is trying to reach the judge to get a stay,” Ryker said. “But Vance isn’t answering his home phone.”

“Of course he isn’t,” Marco muttered. “He’s probably celebrating his latest wire transfer.”

I looked at the children, who were watching our every move with wide, terrified eyes.

Owen had wrapped both arms around his sister now, trying to shield her with his small body.