Casey

As most of the trouble in Casey's life does, it all starts with a phone call from Derek. If she had any sense, she'd start seeing his calls as the ill omens of trouble and chaos that they are. "Come out to dinner," he says.

"I can't."

"You always say that you can't."

Casey sits on the edge of her bed with a groan and shoves her shoes off with her toes. Crossing one foot over the other ankle, she presses her instep with her thumb and bites back a moan from the relief. Her feet ache, and now that she's sitting and her shoes are gone, the idea of standing, walking, or doing anything that isn't lying down and going to sleep sounds like a crime. "Because I can't."

"You can," he's quick to counter, "but you don't want to."

By this point, Derek can read her like a book. She doesn't bother arguing. "I'm tired."

"I know."

They're both tired. She knows he is, even if he doesn't say it. Making every possible effort to scrape together money has significantly strained them. Casey works two jobs, one involving long hours standing on her feet. Derek, too, works a second job. His day job—which would pay decent enough money under normal circumstances—and his side hustle that brings in large cash payments. He doesn't say what it is, but she sees the scrapes and bruises as he settles into the couch, the winces when Marti goes in for a cuddle, even when he tries to hide it.

She's always been able to read him, too.

"Don't worry about it," he'd told her the one time she'd asked, eyeing a new injury. Much to her shame, Casey had let it go because they'd managed to cover their bills that month. The worry and concern continue to sit there, though, weighing heavily on her shoulders.

Now, Casey sighs and closes her eyes. This conversation is eating into her nap. There's a short window before she has to be up again, changed, showered, and ready for another shift. "I don't have time, Derek, honestly. I need a nap before I go in this afternoon or—"

He cuts off the excuses that are on the tip of her tongue. "Call in."

"I can't just call in," she says, tone leaning toward suspicion. Even though he isn't here to see it, her eyes narrow at the floor. The Derek of her high school years might have asked her to call in on a lark for a random bit of fun. Still, the Derek of today (who isn't necessarily mature but who has grown) wouldn't risk everything for a little instant gratification and fun, not with their situation as precarious as it is.

"You can, for today. One day."

The idea of calling in is always a temptation. She can't remember the last time she had a decent night's sleep, for one. "Derek," she says, slow and leery, pinching the bridge of her nose. She wouldn't want to use it for dinner if she's calling in for a day off. "What's going on?"

"I'll tell you about it tonight," he promises. "Later." He's hung up before she can protest or explain why calling in is not an option.

She gives her phone a frustrated growl and drops backward onto her bed to stare at the ceiling. When the water stain only adds to her depression, she looks at Derek's icon photo instead, appropriately directing her frustration at the source. The picture of Derek, open-mouthed and laughing carelessly, makes her smile. "You look deranged," she informs Photo Derek.

Casey debates not doing it, but ultimately, she makes the call. Since starting her job, she's never called in, so they don't give her too much fuss about it. She can tell, though, that Noah, her supervisor, is disappointed in the change in her reliability.

"You're sure you can't make it in?" He pushes once more.

She's willing to bet money that Elle has called in again, and her addition will make their already understaffed team worse. Then she thinks of the picture of Derek on her phone and his carefree laugh. "I'm sure."

It's one night; how bad can it be?

Levi

He almost doesn't answer when the caller ID flashes with Derek's name. A sting of guilt scratches at the inside of Levi's belly when he looks at Derek's smiling face on the phone screen. He should have called more after the accident. It isn't that Levi intentionally brushed off Derek, either. Time sometimes passes in a weird haze. One day, he's thinking in the morning that he should call and check on everyone, and the next thing he knows, it's been almost three weeks since he's called either Derek or Casey.

It has nothing to do with the accident. Only it does a little. He's never been good at keeping in touch. Derek and Casey were always much better at it than him, so they usually reached out. He would eventually take a turn every few weeks, realizing how long it had been since he was the one to check-in.

After the accident, they understandably had a lot on their plates, and here he is... realizing how much time has passed since he last talked to either of them.

The guilt almost wins, but Derek and Casey are some of his favorite people, so he slides the answer bar and puts the phone to his ear.

"How's work?"

Levi stares at the lines of code filling his computer screen. "I miss my internship," he admits. The internship had seen him working with a brilliant coder within the government. The internship that Levi had hoped would lead to a permanent position. When he'd started, Levi had expected to be updating government information websites. It had been so much more. It had been the job of a lifetime.

But there had only been one job opening and two interns.

Now, Levi works for Sobeys, ensuring their website appropriately displays available grocery items in stock and that each search function works how it should. Despite the stellar internship—in which he received a glowing review, despite not earning the position—nothing is hiring now. So, at Sobey's, he stays.

Not quite the same.

August tells him he's still young and will find a job to fulfill his passion soon enough. Levi would like that to happen sooner rather than later; thank you very much.

Derek makes a sympathetic noise. "Maybe I could give you a side project?"

"You want a website or something?" It isn't an unusual request among his friends, but it's not challenging work, either.

"Or something."

Levi can hear the smirk, even through the phone. He can practically see it, turning away from his depressing lines of code. "Color me intrigued."

He's unsure what he expected, but the 'project' Derek outlines wouldn't have made the list.

After a moment of silence, Levi releases a woosh of a breath. "I don't know." Yet, even as he says it, the words ring false, even to Levi's ears.

"Think about it."

"This isn't the kind of thing people think over and decide, 'okay, I'm in'."

"Maybe," Derek allows. "But you didn't say 'no', so I'm not asking you to go from a hard no to a yes. I'm asking you to go from an uncertain to thinking it over."

Derek has a point, but Levi doesn't point it out. It's never good for Derek's ego to point those things out. Levi says nothing for a moment. It would be a more exciting gig than what he has going on at the moment. "Well..." he draws out the word.

Sensing weakness, Derek pounces. "Come to dinner with me and Case."

And because he can never really say no to Derek—or Casey, for that matter—Levi sighs. "Okay. But if you're serious about this, you should call Mabel."

Mabel

When the phone rings, Mabel isn't inclined to answer. She never answers unfamiliar numbers to start, but she suddenly has a lot going on to worry about rather than arguing with a scam caller.

She watches the number ring, avoiding the Major Problem sitting on the counter, and gets a text from her baby brother: Gave Derek your number. Should be calling soon. Hear him out? For me?

The unknown leaves her screen, leaving behind a notification of a missed call. She considers for a moment, curious, and then grasps at the distraction, turning her back on the Major Problem as soon as the phone is in her hand.

He answers on the first ring.

"This Derek?"

"Yeah."

Despite having only met him a handful of times, Mabel thinks she can picture him—cocky smile, purposefully messy hair, and all the confidence in the world—the boy Levi had spent a little over a semester head over heels for. Mabel focuses on that image, blindly reaching behind her until her fingers grasp onto Major Problem. She doesn't look at it, only shoving it into her pocket as she steps into the hall. "What's up?"

"What did Levi tell you?"

"To hear you out."

Derek starts confidently enough, but as he gets into the reason for his call, she can detect hesitancy in his words and hears the way they slow. She wonders if he lacks confidence in the idea or if it's her with whom he has an issue discussing it.

She can't say with any degree of certainty what her answer would be with Major Problem sitting in her pocket, but she's desperate.

"Levi has agreed?"

"Yeah."

"I'll be there," she says slowly. "I'm not saying I'll do it, but I'll hear you out." A beat. "And keep it all to myself, regardless of my decision."

"That's all I ask."

"Maybe we should do a house dinner," she says, "where people won't overhear us?"

"We can meet at mine. I'll send you the address." There's relief in his voice. "See you tonight."

Mabel hangs up, stepping out of the hallway and back into the shop. Lenny spots her immediately, frowning in her direction. "What took you so long? Bobby needs help with the alternator."

Bobby needs help with a lot more than changing an alternator. Lenny hires Bobby when he can't tell a socket wrench from an impact wrench. Despite lacking experience or knowledge, he's hired at a pay equal to Mabel's. She's been here for three years and hasn't received a raise in two.

She rolls her eyes at Lenny, heading for Bobby. "Don't worry about it."

If Derek is correct, and if he can come up with something that works, maybe she can get out of this shit hole. Maybe she can open a shop of her own. She could hire people who know what the fuck they're doing. It would give her multiple solutions to Major Problem.

It's a lot of ifs.

But not so many that she isn't keeping an open mind.

Heaving a sigh, Mabel scoots Bobby out of her way. He should stick to the front desk—he's pretty good in that area.

Derek

Casey agrees to cook. She's a bit miffed at first, not that he blames her. He knows she'd looked forward to getting off her feet. He offers—insists, even—to order something, but she refuses to serve their friends takeout when it's been so long since they've spent any real time with them.

But she managed to get a decent nap before starting dinner and once she starts cooking, she's into it. It's different than doing it because she has to. When she had more time, she used to enjoy cooking.

Every time Casey is home, being domestic, it's like a punch to the gut. He knows that she's likely often domestic, but it's not something he sees frequently with their rotating schedules. He wishes he could, even if it is probably better for his pining that he doesn't. He always expects the feeling to lessen with time or exposure. Most of the time, it feels like it's only gotten worse.

Seeing her move around the kitchen, an apron loose over her clothes, it hits him suddenly, and there's an overwhelming ache in his bones for the life they could have led—the one he thinks they could have had. It's one of the many reasons he wants this opportunity for them if he can get Casey on board.

She catches him staring. Mainly because he's leaning against the counter and doing nothing but stare. Casey smiles, though. "This is nice."

When was the last time they took time off work that didn't involve carting the kids around, stopping at the hospital or the care facility, meeting with school personnel, or doing something that involved taking care of someone else?

Even with the weight of everything balancing on his and Casey's shoulders, it shouldn't mean giving up everything.

Tonight, though, Lizzie, Edwin, and Marti are at sleepovers, and Simon is with Emily's parents. For one evening, he can pretend like things are closer to normal than they are

"We should make more time for things like this."

Then again, if all goes well, they might have time for things like this.

Casey hums her agreement and waves her spoon at the room. "Are you going to tell me what this is all about?"

"I can tell everyone all at once." If Derek tells her now, she'll reach full-blown panic mode when their friends arrive. If he waits, she'll have more support to keep the panic at bay. And for a moment, she can maybe relax.

"I hate the suspense."

"Keeps you young."

Her pout dissolves as she lets out a snort. "Sure. If you say so."

"They'll be here soon," he promises. "You can wait a bit longer."

She sticks her tongue out at him, but later, she lets Derek sample the mashed potatoes so he knows she's not genuinely upset.

Getting a nap in agrees with her.

Casey

Despite the sense of mischief and suspense, Casey is glad for the time off work. She manages to take a nap, which does wonders. After so long, seeing Mabel and Levi is the icing on the cake.

It's been too long, and at the end of the day, she misses them.

They drive separately but arrive together. Casey suspects that Mabel waits until Levi arrives before knocking on their door. Once her friends are inside, she also suspects they know more about tonight than she does; there's a nervous energy to them both.

Regardless, she squeezes them both tight in greeting. "Hello, strangers."

"You probably shouldn't greet strangers so enthusiastically." Levi returns her hug with equal fervor, passing over a bottle of wine. "Good to see you, too. Also, August gave me strict instructions to tell you hi." She gets another hug, "that's also from him."

She brightens, pleased, and tucks the bottle into the crook of her arm. "He should come next time." She'd been nervous when Levi had first started dating August, but now, a year and a half later, they're still going strong. Last she checked, there were talks of moving in together. A flash of guilt heats Casey's face as she realizes how long it has been since she last checked. "Ready for a glass now?"

"None for me." Mabel shrugs out of her coat. "Makes me sleepy."

Derek appears behind Casey, stealing the bottle. "I think we'll all need a little wine for this conversation."

The three of them trail after Derek into the dining room. "How long are you going to keep us in suspense?"

"Can we at least get some food, first?"

Casey snorts, opening her mouth to joke about him prioritizing food over anything else, but her stomach growls before she can speak. Scrunching her nose, she reaches for plates instead. Fifteen minutes later, they're seated with full plates and drinks arranged around the table.

Finally, Derek starts talking.

"Are you familiar with Bethany Wake?"

Whatever Casey had been expecting out of this evening, she wouldn't have guessed it would start with Bethany Wake.

Bethany Wake is well known as a billionaire "philanthropist" who has made most of her money developing and backing pharmaceuticals and their government approvals in Canada and the U.S.

"More or less."

"Well," Derek licks his lips, not quite looking at any of them. "She happens to have a large collection of stolen art."

Casey blinks. "She's an art thief?"

"Not... quite, no. She buys from fences or sources the theft itself. Some of it, specifically, was stolen during World War II and she's since acquired it."

"I can't believe she paid someone to steal art." It is both surprising and not that such a well-known public figure was squirreling away stolen art somewhere."

Much too casually, Derek sips his wine and says, "There's probably decent money in it."

There's a heavy pause. Casey feels the weight of it like a blanket, the hairs on the back of her neck standing. Her jaw drops, and then she snaps it closed.

"No."

"What?"

"We are not that desperate for cash."

Then again, Casey thinks of the stack of bills stuck to the fridge, constantly adding up. She thinks of the credit cards rotating to pay off the other credit cards. She thinks about the mortgage payment glaring at her from beneath the creepy banana magnet from Derek's grandmother. She thinks of diapers and clothes for a rapidly growing child, the extracurriculars that Edwin and Lizzie have had to give up, and upcoming college.

But theft?

"It's not what you're thinking—we won't steal anything for Wake."

Relieved, Casey sinks into her chair, sipping at her wine.

"We're going to steal from her."

Mabel lets out a snort. Levi finishes the wine in his glass in one large gulp, eyes wide.

Casey glares. "Derek."

"Case—" he starts, but she cuts him off.

"You are out of your damn mind."

He sets his fork aside. "Just hear me out."

"I'm going to have to commit you." It feels like all of the air has been sucked out of the room. "I'm going to have to commit you, and then it will be just me keeping everything together, and we can barely manage as it is." if she's honest with herself—which she often isn't—they aren't. They keep a roof over everyone's heads and meet George and her mom's needs, but at the cost of stretching her and Derek like an old rubber band threatening to tear. The panic starts to bubble in her chest, and she grips the arms of her chair. She's finally reached her breaking point.

Then she'll be the one committed.

"Just listen."

"How would you even pull this off? You're obnoxious, but you're not a thief." She gestures around at them. "We're not Ocean's 11." Casey shakes her head. "Not even the pranks you've pulled compare to this."

Mabel looks across the table at her brother. "Much traffic on your way in?"

"Nah. You?"

"Pretty easy drive, actually."

"Case, please just breathe and hear me out for a second."

Casey barely registers the conversation around her, looking across the table at Derek. "You've gone insane." They'll have to sell the house, and then where will they all live?

Derek is suddenly kneeling beside her, and she's unsure when he came around the table. "Breathe."

"How would you even get in? Out? Find out where she keeps everything? What if you get caught? What if you leave behind something and she reports you? What happens after? We can't sell stolen art."

"I mean..." Mabel shrugs. "She can't really report that someone stole her stolen art." She wipes her mouth. "I am also infinitely glad we didn't do this at a restaurant."

They both ignore Mabel, though Casey stores that information in the back of her head.

"That's what I need you for," Derek says, holding her gaze. "I need you to rationalize. Help me plan."

"Derek."

"It's going to pay fifty million. Divided amongst us, maybe one more."

Her jaw drops for the second time.

Derek stands, reaching toward the middle of the table for the bottle of wine. He fills up Casey's glass. Levi extends his toward Derek as soon as Casey's is full. "Mabel?"

She shakes her head, curls bouncing.

He sits in the chair beside her. "I know it sounds crazy, but I think we could do it. With some careful planning, we could figure it out. And it could give us all more than a little bit of cushion."

"It is insane." Levi doesn't look up from his wine glass, staring into its depths. "But..."

"But?" Casey can hear the hope in Derek's voice. She glances over, seeing the way his eyes brighten. Maybe they are that desperate.

Levi shrugs. "I'm listening."

Sure enough, neither he nor Mabel have moved from their seat. So, Derek continues. As it turns out, some rich and powerful people previously owned some of the stolen pieces and want them back.

Someone—a broker of sorts, from what Casey can gather—representing three of these interested parties approached Derek at The Cages. There now would have to be a conversation about illegal cage fighting, but Casey bites the inside of her cheek and reserves that conversation for later.

One thing at a time.

At any rate, this broker thought Derek might know someone interested. He'd offered to do the job.

"Absurd," Casey marvels when he finishes explaining.

"He could probably get a whole crew together, but I'd rather work with people I know and trust."

She supposes Derek's including Mabel by virtue of her relationship with Levi.

It's a lot of money. She doesn't blame him for making sure he's working with people who won't literally stab him in the back for a better cut.

"I'm not asking anyone to commit to anything today. I just... I think that we can do it. Casey can help me plan, Levi can help with the security and electronics."

"I'm not sure why I'm here," Mabel admits.

"I've heard you can drive."

Mabel shrugs, but Casey catches a glint in her eyes as she leans forward.

"And Levi mentioned you're plenty stealthy. Regardless, I think we're capable, and careful." He catches Casey's eye again. "Having that money could change of everything."

Their plates sit empty. At some point, Casey had dug out another bottle of wine, which now sits empty beside her glass. She shakes her head. And yet.

And yet.

Already, her mind is planning logistics against her will.

"I think," she says, gazing at each of them, "if we're going to do this, I know someone who can help. If."

"Maybe we all sleep on it," Levi suggests.

Derek nods. "Agreed. Once we start, it will be a lot harder to back out. I want everyone to be sure before we commit."

After that, they try to steer the conversation to other things. Casey wants to know if August and Levi finally made the leap to move in, and wants to know how if Mabel's coworkers are still shitty. No one can hold the thread of conversation long enough to get anywhere.

Soon enough, Levi and Mabel leave.

Derek is tense when the door closes behind them. When she doesn't say anything, he turns.

"You should have told me."

"I thought you'd listen more if other people were listening."

She snorts. "Still."

"I'm sorry."

Casey nods. There was a time when the words would have shocked her coming from Derek. When she would have had to drag them from him, kicking and screaming. She considers him for a moment. "If we do this, does that mean you'll stop fighting in The Cages?"

"Yes."

Casey closes her eyes.

"I'm only going to do this if you're on board," he continues. "If we do this, its together. You and me."

She inhales deeply. "I'm in."