Chapter 28 · The Box Neither of Us Lets Go

"Marcus, what the hell are you doing here—" Levi's wrist was still locked to mine, and neither one of us let go long enough to find out.

The chain caught the door at four inches. Enough for a face. Enough for a kid — twenty-two, maybe, Levi's jaw on him but none of the mileage — to shove a sealed box through the gap like he was passing contraband in a prison movie.

"Chain of custody, Uncle Levi." Marcus's voice cracked on custody. "They sent me because nobody else could get clearance in time. The panel. The drive. It's all in here."

Levi's grip on my wrist went bone-tight. "Get that out of his hands."

"Whose hands, exactly?" I said. "Yours or mine?"

That's the thing about a locked room. It doesn't stay locked forever, and when it opens, it never opens clean.

A guard finally muscled the outer clamp loose enough to slide the chain free. Two more showed up behind Marcus, radios barking about the drug-test corridor being clear, the hearing anteroom being clear, everybody's favorite phrase —