Chapter 8

“Are you crazy?!”

I immediately turned to Don to glare the ‘I told you so’ line into him, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was frowning at the lawyer who, worriedly, had turned a sick shade of bluish-purple.

This morning started with a pounding ache that had spread from my jaw to the rest of my face, so much so that Sam had to force two tablets of painkillers down my throat. I told her of Don’s plan, and then we started discussing the details of her presentation over breakfast when Don awoke and immediately began hurrying us to get dressed and ready to leave.

Sam said, “I’m not coming with you guys, and by the way, I think your plan is great. Just not practical.”

“That’s why I’m going to seek Mr. Fremund’s help.” He pointed at me, “See? Sam at least thinks my idea is great...”

“I mean, it’s what a movie character would do,” she interjected after taking a slurp of her overly creamy coffee, “But this is real life, Don. If you do that, you will end up dead