“You stole an RV," Vesper said flatly.
Jack poured gas station coffee into a chipped mug. “Bought it. Barely. Used my severance check."
“Which you got for breaking into a federal lab."
“Details."
She glanced around the cramped interior. Rusted sink. Busted fan. A dreamcatcher hanging from a plastic hook.
“And the disguise?"
He handed her a denim cap. “Congratulations, you're now Mrs. Sally Thompson. We're newlyweds on a sad road trip."
She arched a brow. “You're disturbingly good at this."
“I was raised by criminals," Jack said, sipping his coffee. “Then I joined the force. Full circle."
She sat at the fold-out table, examining a map. “We head south. Avoid major cities. No digital trail."
He pointed to a hand-drawn line. “Kansas, Arkansas, then Texas. I hear Patagonia has good hi
