I eye Thatcher. His strong gaze returns to me. For some reason, my heart is beating wildly, uncontrollably, and I can’t slow the pace. “Would you mind…” Breathe. I inhale. “…being handcuffed to Beckett for the next ten minutes?” Thatcher is already nodding. “I’m good to go.” I look to Beckett. “There. Banks can go to the restroom with you. As far as I know, he’s not your sister.”
