The streetlights reflected off the damp pavement as the first drops of rain began to fall.

I checked into a small, nondescript motel, using cash Marisol had lent me.

I lay on the thin mattress, staring at the plastic ceiling fan spinning slowly overhead.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand, the screen illuminating the dark room.

It was a text from Derek.

“Where are you?” the message read.

I did not reply.

Ten minutes later, another message came through.

“Stephanie said she saw you leaving the building with a large envelope,” it read.

My chest tightened, and it became hard to breathe.

He knew.

I lay awake all night, watching the gap under the motel room door.

At eight in the morning, Marisol called my phone.

“The warrant is signed,” she said.

“Meet me at the police station near your condo.”

I drove through the heavy morning traffic, my palms sweating against the steering wheel.

Two marked police cruisers were parked outside the station when I arrived.

A detective named Miller met us in the lobby, holding a folder.

“We have the warrant,” Detective Miller said.