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Marisol’s hand tightens around hers.

“You heard her,” Sage says.

“Yes.”

I cross the room and take the backpack from the chair.

“Where in the lining?” I ask.

Marisol’s gaze moves toward the window.

Fear passes across her face.

“I don’t know.”

“You just said Frank put it there.”

“He told me he did. He never told me where.”

“When?”

“When Sage was sleeping in his truck.”

Sage’s expression changes.

“After I left Sally’s diner?”

“Yes.”

“How did Frank know he would find me?”

“Sally sent him.”

Sage releases Marisol’s hand.

“Frank didn’t meet me by accident.”

“No.”

Pain moves across my daughter’s face.

Another person kept the truth from her.

Another person used her without giving her a choice.

Marisol sees it.

“He wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

“He hid a ledger in my backpack while Greg and Navarro were hunting for it.”

“He didn’t know Greg had blamed you.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

“No.” Marisol’s eyes fill. “It doesn’t.”

I set the backpack on the floor.