The signal.
The explosion.
None of it had been random.
A small window appeared on the computer screen.
Encrypted transfer initiated.
The progress bar showed twelve percent.
Mark had programmed the drive to upload its contents the first time it was connected to an outside network.
The destination was not listed, but I knew him well enough to understand what he had done.
He had turned the drive into a dead man’s switch.
My phone rang again.
My father.
I answered without speaking.
“You opened it,” he said.
It was not a question.
“Where is Mark?”
“Being questioned by people who believe the evidence attached to his credentials.”
“You framed him.”
“I protected something larger than him.”
“You hit him.”
“He became emotional.”
The cruelty of those words was worse than shouting.
My father sounded as calm as he had while cutting birthday cake.
I looked at the progress bar.
Nineteen percent.
“The house exploded,” I said.
“Mom was inside.”
“The charge was confined to the rear study.
Your mother and the guests were in the front dining room.”
“You knew exactly where everyone would be.”
“I planned carefully.”
“You could have killed them.”
“I did not.”
That was his defense.
No apology.
No fear.
Only the fact that his calculation had worked.
“Bring me the drive,” he said.
“I can still keep Mark from spending the rest of his life in prison.”
“You mean you can stop lying about him.”
“Do not confuse loyalty with innocence, Emily.
Your husband stole classified material.”
“He stole proof that you framed him.”
My father’s voice dropped.
“You have your son with you.
Think carefully before turning this into something you cannot control.”
The line went silent.
For one terrible second, I heard a threat in the mention of my child.
Then I heard something else.
Fear.
My father did not know where the upload was going.
He did not know how much time remained.
For the first time that night, he was reacting instead of commanding.
I placed the phone beside the keyboard and watched the bar climb.
Thirty-one percent.
The gas station door opened.
A bell chimed above it.
