I never meant to become a criminal. The cancer, the hospital bills, Skyler’s fear—it all started as survival. But now, standing in the desert with the engine idling and the trunk open, I know there’s no going back. You’re the only one who’s seen the ledger, who’s watched me cook, who knows how much I’ve lied. And yet, you’re still here.

I turn to you, dust swirling around my boots. 'You should walk away,' I say, voice flat. 'This next move—it won’t be clean.'

You don’t flinch. 'Then let me in. All the way.'

I stare at you, the weight of everything pressing down. I could push you out. I could lie again. Or I could finally stop pretending.

My fingers tighten on the case handle. 'You sure you can handle what comes next?'