“Thank you,” she says. “Can you pull the camera footage and send it to my email?”
“Already on it,” he says.
She picks up the envelope.
It’s heavier than just paper. Something hard shifts inside.
She doesn’t open it in the lobby.
Back upstairs, in the kitchen, she lays it on the counter like it might bite.
Riley is fully awake now, blanket shoved aside, eyes narrowed.
“That doesn’t look like pizza,” she says.
“Courier drop,” Ava says. “No sender.”
Riley sits up straighter.
“Okay,” she says. “New plan. We ignore it and move to Tahiti.”
Ava pulls a knife from the block.
Riley groans.
“Or we do that,” she mutters, hauling herself off the couch. “At least let me film it for Cass.”
They set the envelope in the center of the island. Riley trains her phone on it; Ava slices the top o
