Virginia arrived at Hazard’s office promptly at nine Monday morning, waiting outside the locked back entrance for someone to let her inside. CSX trains clattered through the trees. The wind was already hot and it snapped the skirt of her old pageant interview dress against her thighs. The dress made her feel younger, as if she could stand next to Tourmaline in it and even she could be that spritely dogwood blowing in the breeze. White petals defiant. Too late, she realized she did not want to be wearing a dress for this meeting.

Hazard let her inside, wearing his bloodred power suit, a crisp white shirt, and cowboy hat. He didn’t say hello, just beckoned with his hand for her to follow him into the office. She didn’t get to know the script ahead of time. She was watching the opening credits, and all she could hope for was that she hadn’t been written out.

Virginia straightened her shoulders and walked in as if she were walking onstage, following Hazard as he subtly ducked under the door frames on the way to his office.

A phone rang and there was a faint smell of fresh coffee that made Virginia’s stomach rumble.

“Close the door,” Hazard said, putting his hat on the desk.

She did. As soon as the latch clicked, he started in about the extra pills he’d told her to put to the side.

Why weren’t they individually repackaged, Ms. Campbell? Are you trying to be sloppy? You’re succeeding. You can’t be sloppy and worn-out and tired for this. This is not how I run things and I don’t care how long you’ve worked for me, I’ll fire you. I’ll fire you and I’ll make sure you don’t work for anyone in this state. And if you end up on the street, turning tricks like the whore you are, I’ll have every cop in the county arresting you. If you’re a stripper, I’ll have the health department in there measuring your thong. If you’re a waitress, no one in this town will leave you a tip. If you’re a grave digger, no one will fucking die. That is how much you will want for work. I will not tolerate this. Sloppy work puts you in prison. You are not allowed to fuck up if you want to stay employed.

At first, she tried to explain. She’d asked about the extras and he’d said to put them all together. He hadn’t given her a breakdown. She hadn’t been given a list. She had packaged them. How was that sloppy?

But he just talked over her until she fell silent.

Finally, his voice dropped and he straightened his tie. “Tell me about the Wardens.”

She told him all she knew in a flat voice, looking toward him, but not at him.

The yelling started again.

Again, she tried to explain. “This is what you asked for. To distract them. To know what they care about.”

Again, he talked over her, drowning out any defense.

Someone knocked on the door and cracked it open. “Your nine fifteen is here.” The secretary ignored Virginia.

Virginia automatically turned for the door, assuming it was over.

“Sit down,” Hazard snapped.

The 9:15 walked in, looking like shit on a stick. He wore a ball cap pulled low and his fingers were dirty, but he plopped into the seat beside Virginia like he owned the room.

“Give him your bags,” Hazard said curtly.

Her jaw dropped. “Why?”

He just looked at her, expression dead, until she pulled the backpack off her shoulder and handed it over.

“They’re color-coded,” she told Nine Fifteen.

“Write down the code,” Hazard said.

“But—” Virginia started.

Hazard held up his hand. “Just do it, Virginia.”

She shouldn’t have gotten upset, no matter what he said. It meant he was in control. And handing over her stuff didn’t just mean she was losing her work—her codes, and her clients, and presumably her paycheck—it meant she had lost his trust and his faith. But she steeled her face and did as she was told.

“You’re done with this. I want you to focus on the Wardens. You keep showing up in this cheap, girlish shit.” He gestured to her dress. “You’re not taking this seriously. Maybe you don’t have enough time to focus on it. This shouldn’t be hard.”

Nine Fifteen took the bags and leaned back, watching easily, not at all embarrassed to be witnessing her mortification.

“Go back and do it right this time,” Hazard snapped.

Virginia’s fist clenched at the unfairness. This wasn’t what he’d told her to do. She had been doing it right until he changed the rules.

“Go through Harris’s home office and take pictures of anything that hints at income, or payouts, or anything illegal. Do it, or you’ll beg me to fire you. Change your clothes and get to work,” Hazard said. “I’ve got stuff to do.”

Virginia stood and left without a word.

Outside, when she opened her mouth to cry it came out as a scream. Her fists curled and her body pulled apart. What had happened? She hadn’t done anything wrong—had she? Jerking open the truck door, she jumped inside.

There was only one thing to do.

In a squeal of hot asphalt and gravel, she headed into the mountains.