The woman who screamed in the morgue dropped her clipboard. It hit the floor harder than I expected. I tried to sit up. That was a mistake. Every muscle in my body protested at once, and cold air hit skin that had spent far too long in refrigeration. The morgue attendan

Rebecca arrived the next morning with coffee for herself and a folder for me. The coffee smelled better.

"The first medical review is back," she said.

I looked at the folder.

"How illegal is it?"

"Not at all."

"Disappointing."

Rebecca ignored that and opened

The overseas account belonged to a man named Evan Price. Rebecca said the name like it meant something. It did not.

"Should I know him?"

"No. He has lived in Lisbon for the last four years."

"Good."

Still nothing. Rebecca turned the laptop toward me. A passport photo