Chapter 7 - The Price of Air
Jace found Devon behind the pharmacy loading dock, sitting on an overturned milk crate and staring at the alley as though it had accused him of something.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Devon said.
“You said we needed to talk.”
“I said that yesterday.”
“Things changed.”
Devon looked at the red jacket. Jace had left it in the apartment, but the jacket’s shape seemed to follow him anyway.
“Nolan came to my house,” Jace said.
“He came to mine too.”
“What did he want?”
“My phone.”
“Did you give it to him?”
“I gave him the old one.”
Jace sat beside him. The pharmacy’s delivery door opened and closed behind them, releasing a brief smell of antiseptic and cardboard.
“Talia has the full recording,” Jace said.
Devon rubbed both hands over his face. “You saw it?”
“She showed me the missing part.”
“What was taken?”
“A key.”
“Nolan said you failed to get one.”
“He was lying.”
“He lies about everything.”
Jace watched a pigeon pick at a strip of plastic near the drain. “He showed me photographs of Miri.”
Devon’s expression changed.
“He’s been following her,” Jace said. “School, pharmacy, the apartment.”
“We should go to the police.”
“Which ones?”
“The police.”
“Nolan knows two officers who drink at the garage. One of them called him after the video went online.”
“That doesn’t mean all of them are bought.”
“No. It means we don’t know which ones are.”
Devon picked up a crushed receipt and folded it into smaller and smaller squares.
“My mother says Calder can terminate the pharmacy lease whenever they want.”
“Can they?”
“There’s a clause about redevelopment.”
“The pharmacy’s been there twelve years.”
“That doesn’t make the clause disappear.”
“Your mother was in on this?”
“I don’t know.”
The answer came too quickly to be true.
“Devon.”
“She let Nolan use the back room. She said it was only to scare the old man. She thought he wanted information, not a robbery.”
“That’s what adults say when they want children to carry the blame.”
Devon looked toward the street. “My mother isn’t innocent.”
“Neither are we.”
The admission made the alley quieter.
Jace had expected Devon to argue. Instead, he said, “I laughed.”
“You laughed because Nolan told you to.”
“I still laughed.”
Jace remembered Elias’s hand on the shelter wall. He remembered the cane sliding away, the old man refusing to look at them. “I thought if I acted like it was a joke, it would stay one.”
“It didn’t.”
“No.”
The pharmacy door opened. Celia Price stepped into the alley wearing a white coat over street clothes. She saw the boys and stopped.
“Devon, go home.”
“Mom—”
“Now.”
Her eyes moved to Jace. “You should not bring him here.”
“Nolan is watching Miri,” Jace said.
Celia’s face lost its color.
“Who told you that?”
“He showed me photographs.”
She closed the delivery door behind her. “Come inside.”
The pharmacy was empty except for a woman at the register and a security camera mounted above the cold-medicine aisle. Celia led them into the stockroom.
“Nolan came two nights ago,” she said. “He asked whether Elias had been here. I told him no.”
“Was that true?” Devon asked.
“It was when I said it.”
“Mom.”
She opened a cabinet and removed a paper folder. Inside were copies of delivery invoices, lease amendments, and a list of names written in pencil.
“Calder’s redevelopment office has been using the pharmacy as a collection point,” she said. “People leave envelopes. We store them until someone picks them up.”
Jace looked at the list. One name appeared three times: Calvin Sloane.
“Why keep this?”
“Because I knew eventually someone would ask why I let it happen.”
“Why did you?” Devon asked.
Celia stared at her son. “Because the pharmacy is the only thing I have ever managed to keep open.”
No one spoke.
She handed Devon a small envelope. “Take this to Mara Ortiz.”
“You know her?”
“Everyone knows her now.”
“What is it?”
“A copy of the redevelopment schedule. Northline demolition begins in nine days.”
Jace stood. “We need to tell her about Sloane.”
“You need to tell her everything,” Celia said.
“If I do, they’ll arrest us.”
“They may.”
“Nolan will come after Miri.”
Celia stepped close to him. “Then we make sure Miri is not alone.”
It was the first time an adult had said something that sounded like a plan instead of a warning.
They left through the front door. Across the street, a black sedan waited beneath a broken streetlamp.
Devon whispered, “That’s Nolan.”
Jace looked at the pharmacy’s upstairs windows. His mother had disappeared again, leaving Miri with no one but him and a man who considered shelter a debt.
“We go to Mara,” he said.
“What if she turns us in?”
“She should.”
He started walking.
May you like
Devon followed after a moment.
The black sedan remained at the curb, engine running, until they reached the corner.
