Chapter 70 - Ethan
ETHAN
“What if she doesn’t take out the dog before they get back?” Anton asked from the driver’s side of the Escalade.
“She will.”
We’d been sitting outside the brick building at the end of Main Street for almost three hours, waiting for the Haver bitch to take out her dog. It was smarter than trying to take her in the house, where there would be any alarm, places to hide.
But the strategy also required discipline, and Anton wasn’t long on discipline.
That was what most people didn’t realize: anything was possible — literally anything — if you were disciplined enough to work for it, and sometimes, to wait for it.
I knew because I’d been nothing but a foster kid, and look at me now. Some people would say I’d been lucky, but I knew better: I’d been smart.
I hadn’t had money or connections or even parents.
But I’d had skills. I’d had talent. And I’d used those skills and talents to build something for myself, had used them to make connections with people like Dimitri Kaprolov, who’d watched me argue the merits of repealing a woman’s right to vote at a high school debate championship.
My stance hadn’t won me any friends in school — and I’d lost the debate, although not on merit in my opinion — but Dimitri had taken me under his wing, had opened doors that would have been unimaginable if I’d stayed in my lane, as the kids liked to say, as the poor foster kid I’d been.
Movement near the brick building caught my eye and I watched as Maeve Haver emerged from the building, wearing a coat and holding her dog’s leash.
“Do you have the syringe?” I asked Anton.
He held it up. “Got it.”
I reached for the door. “Let’s go.”