Calder pulled a crumpled slip of paper from his pocket—a storage-unit address scribbled in hurried handwriting. Evan studied it, feeling a strange familiarity tug at him. Something about the name of the street felt personal, though he couldn’t explain why. Calder crumpled up the paper quickly. “Don’t think. Just follow me.”
Cornering him with emotion, Calder pressed on. “I chose you because of your father,” he whispered. “You deserve to know the truth. They’ll kill us both if they catch up.” Evan felt a chill. “My father?” Evan’s father was an accountant who died years ago. Something wasn’t adding up. But Calder was already moving out of the apartment.