You tell the police exactly what happened.”

My throat tightened. “You… you called the cops?”

“I’m not risking you,” he said. “Not for pride. Not for the old rules.”

Upstairs, a crash—wood splintering. People shouted. Evan cursed. The sound of boots hit the steps, fast and heavy, and then the basement door shook under a battering ram. The lock gave way with a crack. Bright flashlights cut through the darkness.

“Ma’am?” a woman’s voice called. “Claire Donnelly?”