My parents gave me my brother's MacBook for my 18th birthday, unaware I overheard them planning to let me take the fall for his crimes.

At 12:04 a.m., my phone began to buzz where it lay on the metal table.

The screen lit up with a photo of my mother, smiling on a beach in Lake Erie three summers ago. Above her face, the caller ID flashed: *Mom*.

None of the officers moved. Detective Vance raised a single finger, instructing me to stay silent, then reached over to tap the speaker button and hit record on his audio interface.

"Answer it," Vance whispered, leaning in. "Keep your voice calm. Act like you're half-asleep or annoyed. Do not tell them where you are."

I swallowed the dry terror in my throat, tapped the green circle, and brought the phone toward me.

"Hello?" I said, making my voice thin, groggy.

"Emily?" My mother’s voice came through the tiny speaker, high-pitched, taut, and vibrating with an electric undercurrent of panic. "Emily, where are you?"

"I told you, Mom. I'm at Jenna’s," I lied smoothly. "We're watching movies in her basement. Why are you calling me so late?"

In the background of the call, I could clearly hear frantic pacing. Footsteps squeaking on hardwood floor. Then, my father’s muffled voice in the distance: *Is she on the laptop? Ask her if she turned it on!*

My mother took a ragged breath. "Emily, honey... did you use the computer Ryan gave you? Did you set it up on Jenna’s Wi-Fi yet?"

I paused for two beats, just long enough to make her sweat. "No. I haven't even opened the backpack. Why?"

A sharp gasp escaped my mother. "Don't touch it!" she snapped, her voice losing every shred of maternal warmth. Then, catching herself, she dialed it back, the sweetness curdling like spoiled milk. "I mean... Ryan just realized he left some critical work files on the hard drive that weren't backed up. Proprietary company data, sweetie. You could get him in serious trouble with his boss if you mess with it."

"I thought he wiped it for me," I said, playing the naive eighteen-year-old they thought I was. "You said it was my birthday present."

"It is, darling! It is! But he needs it back first thing in the morning," she pleaded, her breathing rapid and shallow. "In fact, your dad is going to drive over to Jenna’s right now to pick it up. Just meet him on the curb with the bag."

Agent Cross shook his head vigorously, his hand slicing through the air in a flat *no*.

"Jenna’s parents went to bed, Mom," I said coldly. "The front door is bolted and her dad has the security alarm armed. If anyone walks up the driveway, their dogs will wake the whole neighborhood. I'm not doing that."

"Emily, listen to me—"

Before she could finish, the phone was violently snatched from her hand. Ryan’s voice slammed into the receiver, raw, furious, and stripped of all composure.