“Clara is fragile. She cannot survive a prolonged public trial.”

My stomach tightened at the mention of my daughter’s name.

“Leave Clara out of this,” I said, my voice shaking with sudden anger.

“I am offering you an alternative,” Eleanor said.

“One that benefits everyone.”

“I am listening.”

“Keep the police quiet about Gareth,” she said.

“Drop the burglary charges. Return the drive to me.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because I can make your daughter’s future very comfortable,” Eleanor said.

“More comfortable than you could ever imagine.”

She did not name a figure yet, but the implication was clear.

“I will contact you tomorrow morning with the terms,” Eleanor said, and the line went dead.

I lowered the phone and stared at the dark screen.

The door to the observation room clicked open.

Officer Cho walked in, holding a paper cup of lukewarm coffee.

“Who was that?” Cho asked, setting the cup on the small desk.

“Eleanor Thorne,” I said.

Cho looked through the glass at Gareth.

“She is already trying to clean up his mess, then,” Cho said.

“She wants a deal,” I said.