This was it.
I reached into my purse, my fingers brushing against the cold plastic of the burner. I also grabbed my lip gloss, holding it in the palm of my hand as a shield. With a slow, agonizingly steady movement, I slid the phone out of the bag. Using the shadow of my own body, I pushed the device deep into the crevice where the seat met the backrest, wedging it out of sight.
I clicked the lip gloss cap for sound effect, then tucked it back into my purse. I sat back, my heart nearly stopping as the car slowed to a halt in front of our building.
The phone was gone. The evidence was in the car. But as Jason stepped out and reached back to help me up, I realized I was still walking into the lion's den—and this time, I knew exactly what kind of doctor was waiting for me.
The car door op
