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Jenna notices a woman across the street who seems to be staring at her. She’s not one of the usual bus-stop parents.
She doesn’t have much time. Jenna dashes toward the cart, climbs into the oversized bag, contorts her body, and zips it shut from the inside.
He owes $395,000 plus the vig.
He thinks of his fiancée—correction, ex-fiancée—Natalie. She loved him. Really, really loved him. She was willing to work things through, even after discovering the credit cards he’d opened in her name. The thousands in debt he racked up.
And he told Natalie about Annie, his first love who vanished without a trace.
“You were friends with Benjamin Wood?”
she often asks to elicit fear: “Did you know that studies show there are six distinct types of screams?”
“You wanna end up like your missing friends?” the detective says.
“That she isn’t doing jobs for the money or ideology or the usual reasons.” He pauses. “She’s doing it for the sport.”
“That’s fine.” Nico needs to get there before the Feds. If they track his movements, then it’s all over for him,
“Have you seen Congress lately? There’s more sociopaths and carnival barkers than legislators.”
He has to get there before they do. To dispose of the evidence.
Maybe you and your friends keep your hands off the girls and it’ll die down.”
“You think I’m fucking stupid? You promised me no more fiddling with underage girls. I worked hard to get rid of the problem last time. To get you this job around kids, for Christ’s sake.”
She scolds herself for being fooled. For thinking of letting him go. Lesson learned: Show no mercy.
“I know you didn’t want me to make any noise,” she says, looking him straight in his widening eyes. “But I’m fine if you want to scream.”
And Fagin is an infamous character from a Dickens novel—a despicable man who used children to commit his crimes. Flanders used Artemis to lure girls. And Artemis must’ve agreed, since he needed Park Jones. So Marta, Annie, the others …
who fires off a shot that doesn’t seem to hit anyone.
Then he feels the cold muzzle of a gun pressed to his head. “I’m sorry about this, Donnie. I really am,” Reeves says.
think you are making a mistake,” Artemis says to Mr. Jones.

