I stepped into her space. "Oh really? What, you're going to threaten me now? Come on, Isobel. It's 2025, not the Wild West. What's the plan—whack me? You think your precious family's still going to clean up your mess? Still going to bail you out after everything you've done?"
Her face flushed deep red, her breath jagged like she was seconds from bursting a blood vessel.
"Don't talk to me like that!" she hissed, her raised voice drawing attention.
She glanced around, suddenly self-conscious, and lowered her tone. "Fine. How much would it take?"
"I told you, I don't want money. I want you to go to the police and confess. Own up to what you did."
"Not gonna happen."
"Then we're done."
I turned and walked off.
It wasn't like I could conjure up a sack, throw it over he
