We both worked part-time on campus, Mollie in the library, me with the maintenance department, cutting lawns mostly. That brought in enough to keep us...in food and drugs over the summer. When we drove my beat up old Volkswagen to the train station to meet Emma I didn't know what to expect. Mollie had told me how close they were, so I guess I imagined Emma to be a miniature version of Mollie. She wasn't. I snickered when I first saw the young girl come through the doors. Emma was thin, but very. Rough hands hauled her up and shoved her back in the chair. Tears falling, she watched the big guy slowly stand. Now his eyes were beady, dead, and mean.“Where are the documents?” he demanded, sounding vicious.When he raised his hand, Callie shied away, her face still hurting. It was too much. She didn’t have the strength. Please don’t hate me, Hunter.“Lightfoot has it. It’s contained in a microdot.”The big, thick-necked guy lowered his hand. “How many copies?”“Two,” she claimed. “On memory. More

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