That stranger’s hands. “Just drive,” I murmured.

Halfway there, I trasformed my mind. “Downtown instead. Matthews Law Office.”

Carl Matthews is an old friend. I’d fixed his computer once years ago, and he’d always said he owed me. Tonight, I planned to collect.

When I stepped into his office, Carl looked up, startled. “Tom? You’re supposed to be in recovery!”

“Plans changed,” I said simply.

He motioned for me to sit, and I told him everything. No shouting, no anger just the plain, ugly truth.