Page 86 of Hacking the Holidays
The downtown gazebo glowed with white lights, surrounded by a crowd of bundled-up locals and tourists singing along with the carolers. Their voices rose in harmony, filling the cold air with “We Wish You a Merry Christmas”—the kind of holiday magic that might normally make Leavenworth feel like stepping into a snow globe.
Tonight, it felt like a mockery.
I stood at the edge of the crowd with Chloe, my hands shoved deep into my coat pockets, watching the carolers’ breath clouds in the cold air. Their faces were flushed with joy and Christmas spirit, completely oblivious to the fact that a good man they adored sat in a jail cell.
“So what’s our next move?” Chloe asked quietly, her eyes on the carolers but her mind clearly elsewhere. “Do we even have a next move?”
I didn’t answer immediately. What could I say? That Thorne had ordered us back to Seattle in the morning? ThatBeverly had won? That Sam was being processed and transferred, and there was nothing I could do about it?
“Zara?”
“I’m not going back.”
Chloe’s head snapped toward me. “What?”
“To Seattle,” I clarified. “I’m not going back in the morning.”
“Are you …?” She lowered her voice even further. “Are you quitting your job?”
“No.” The word came out automatically, but then I paused, really thinking about it. “Maybe. I don’t know. It’s tempting, though.” I looked at her. “Is it possible I’ve outgrown the Bureau?”
Chloe’s expression morphed into something between sympathy and amusement. “You haven’t outgrown the job, Zara. You’ve outgrown the people. You’re too smart for the bureaucracy, too principled for their politics, and way too stubborn to play by Beverly’s rules.” She bumped my shoulder with hers. “And I’m sure you’re qualified for a thousand different jobs if you were really thinking about leaving. But …” Her voice caught slightly. “I would miss you.”
“I’d miss you too.” The admission made my throat tight. “Well, this gives me something to think about, I guess."
We fell silent as “Deck the Halls” began, the carolers’ voices blending harmoniously. The crowd swayed, holding up phone lights like tiny stars. It was beautiful and everything else that Christmas was supposed to be.
And I’d never felt more lost.
My phone rang.
Jarring and out of place.
I pulled it from my pocket and looked at the caller ID.
CHELAN COUNTY REGIONAL JUSTICE CENTER.
My heart stopped. I’d created an account and registered my phone number with them, just in case Sam wanted to call me from jail, but I didn’t think he actually would.
I showed Chloe the screen.
“Pick up!” she hissed. “Pick up right now!”
My hands shook as I yanked off my glove and swiped to answer the call. Before I could say hello, an automated message cut through:“This call is being monitored and recorded. This call is from an inmate at Chelan County Regional Justice Center. To accept charges, press one. To decline?—”
I stabbed the number one so hard I nearly dropped the phone.
A click. Static. Then?—
“Hello?”
His voice hit me hard.
Relief and anguish all at once.
“Sam …” I turned away from the carolers, pressing my free hand to my other ear to block out the singing. “I can’t believe you’re calling me. Shouldn’t you be using your one phone call to contact a lawyer?”
“I just needed to hear your voice,” he said.
