“If I didn’t feel like I was going to vomit, I’d take that bet,” Tiffany said as she held her stomach.

Smiling, Sara stepped into the street and hailed a cab. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a dark-blue sedan waiting across the street. She and Tiffany got into the cab, and Sara gave the driver Tiffany’s address. As the cab took Sara and Tiffany deeper into Harlem, Sara turned around and noticed that the sedan was now behind them.

“Do me a favor,” Sara said to the cabdriver. “Head down a few of these smaller streets. I want to know if the car behind us is following us.”

Following Sara’s instructions, the driver turned off Lenox Avenue and onto 131st Street. The sedan didn’t follow.

“Who do you think it was?” Tiffany asked, staring out the back window.

“No one. Just my imagination,” Sara said, relieved. “You can go back now,” she told the driver.

For the next few minutes, as Sara and Tiffany sat in the back of the cab, Sara kept an eye out for the sedan. Without question, it was gone. The cab pulled up to Tiffany’s apartment building on 147th Street. “If you don’t mind waiting,” Sara said to the driver, “I’ll only be a minute.” Sara got out of the cab and walked Tiffany inside – she always liked to check in with Tiffany’s aunt at the end of each visit. After a brief conversation, Sara left the building and looked for her cab. It was gone. The only car in sight was the dark-blue sedan. The driver of the sedan, a pale man with a blond mustache, was leaning on the hood.

Sara reached into her pocket and pulled out her badge. “DA’s office!” she yelled. “Who the hell are you?”

Unfazed, the driver of the sedan looked up and handed a folded sheet of paper to Sara.

“What’s that?” Sara asked suspiciously.

“It’s a new invention. We call it paper.”

“Very funny,” Sara said, grabbing it out of his hands. When she unfolded the piece of paper, she read the words GET IN THE CAR, POOH. Sara looked up at the driver. “Who wrote this?”

“No idea. All I know is where I’m supposed to take you. As long as I get paid in advance, I don’t care.”

She took a step away from the car.

“Don’t be afraid,” the driver said. “You’ll be safe.” Sara still wasn’t convinced.

“No offense, but if I wanted to hurt you, I would’ve done it by now. Especially in this neighborhood – no one would suspect a thing. Now why don’t you get in the car?”

As she considered the man’s logic, Sara noticed that Tiffany was watching the events from her apartment window.

“See, now if anything bad happens, you even have your own witness,” the driver added.

To make sure Tiffany didn’t worry, Sara shot her a strained smile and moved toward the car. “Where are we going?” she asked the driver.

“Not allowed to say,” the driver said, looking over his shoulder. “But it’ll be worth it.”

Putting her faith in the message and taking one last look at Tiffany, Sara hesitantly got in the backseat of the car. For a half hour, the car headed downtown. The entire time, the driver kept his eyes on the rearview mirror. All through the Upper West Side, Sara thought they were going to Times Square. When they drove through Times Square, she thought they were going to the Village. When they drove through the Village, she thought they were going to her office building on Centre Street. And when they passed her office building, she said, “Where the hell is this place?”

“Ten more minutes,” the driver said.

The car turned toward the entrance to the Brooklyn Bridge.

“We’re going to Brooklyn?” Sara asked nervously.

“You’ll see,” the driver said with a smile.

Taking a sharp right onto the first exit off the bridge, the driver headed through the quiet historic neighborhood of Brooklyn Heights. Passing rows of classic town houses, traditional clapboards, and one of George Washington’s houses, they headed straight for the riverfront Promenade, famous for its arresting view of lower Manhattan. The paved walkway was usually crowded with both locals and tourists, but the cold weather had a chilling effect on both the night and its population. “Last stop,” the driver said.

Frantically looking around, Sara didn’t see anyone.

“Get out of the car,” the driver said.

“Here? You expect me to get out here? Are you nuts?”

“Get out of the car. You’ll be thankful you did.”

Following the driver’s instructions, Sara got out and approached the window on the passenger side of the car. Leaning into the window, she asked, “Now what?”

“Wait here.” With that said, the driver rolled up the window and sped off.

“Wait! Where are you going?” Sara asked, banging on the window as the sedan pulled away. Surrounded by nothing but some scattered benches and a concrete walkway, Sara felt the cold wind of the East River whip across her face. Looking around, she still didn’t see anyone. She headed down the path toward the water. “Is anybody here?” she shouted. “Hello!”

“Sara,” a voice said from behind her.

“Who the-” she yelled, turning around. It was Jared. She reacted instantaneously. “I’ve been worried sick about you,” she said, embracing her husband. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Sorry,” Jared said, pulling away. “I just wanted to make sure you were alone.”

“I’m definitely alone. In fact, I’ve been alone since last night.”

“You were the one who wanted me to move out.”

“You know this is different,” she said. “I couldn’t even find you at Pop’s.”

“Sorry about that. I just couldn’t face you after that thing with Conrad.”

“Jared, I swear on my life, nothing happened with Conrad. He went to kiss me, and I pulled away. Anyone who said it was more than that is lying.”

“Fine, they were lying,” Jared said, kicking at a random piece of nothing. “As usual, you’re right.”

“Don’t shut down on me,” Sara said.

Jared didn’t reply.

“Jared, please. If you didn’t want to get into this, why’d you call me out here?”

“I wanted to talk to you in privacy.”

“So you have some nutjob pick me up with a cryptic note that uses my dad’s old pet name for me? There are easier, less upsetting ways to get in touch.”

“I figured you’d know the note was from me. Who else would know that information?”

“You’d be surprised what a stranger can find out about you.” Sara sat down on a wooden bench, and Jared nodded silently in agreement. Carefully watching her husband, she added, “So if this isn’t about yesterday, what else do we have to discuss?”

“The case,” Jared said, his voice barely above a whisper. “We have to talk about the case.”

Now Sara was annoyed. “Of course – the one thing in this world you actually care about.”

“Honey, you know that’s not-”

“It is true,” Sara insisted. “But let me break it to you: The trial’s in two weeks, the motions went our way, and when we’ve convicted Kozlow, we’re going to go after Claire Doniger and anyone else we see as an accomplice.”

Shaking his head, Jared pulled up the collar on his overcoat, trying to stay warm. The wind continued to beat against him. “Sara, I can’t fight with you anymore. It’s not worth it. I just want you to listen very carefully to what I’m about to say. I wouldn’t even think of asking you this unless it was completely necessary.” Moving toward her, he explained, “This may sound crazy, but I need you to take a dive. Lose some evidence, do a bad job on purpose – I don’t care how you do it; I just need to win.”

Laughing, Sara said, “Are you really that desperate? I mean, do you even realize how illegal that is? And that’s without even considering the moral implications.”

“Screw the moral implications. This is far more important than morality.”

“Oh, that’s right – I forgot your job is more important than everything else in the universe.”

“Just listen for a second.”

“I am listening,” Sara interrupted, jumping from her seat. “And I can’t believe what you’re asking. When you had the upper hand, everything was fine and dandy. But the moment I’m finally doing well, you want me to roll over. You really have some set of balls, y’know that? This job has changed my life. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m back in control again. Things are going well; my confidence is strong; my anxieties are finally gone. This case has made me a new person. And if you think you can bully me into playing your game like you tried to do at the grand jury, you’re living in fantasyland. I’m only saying this once, Jared. You’re not taking this away from me.”