The lead officer hurried inside.
“Mrs. Whitmore, we have a problem.”
Behind him, the driveway lights flashed red and blue across the walls.
“What happened?”
“The woman is secured, but the man we detained isn’t Marcus Hale.”
Daniel stared at the photograph.
I felt the room tilt around me.
“Then who is he?”
The officer’s expression tightened.
“We were hoping you could tell us.”
My phone vibrated inside Rachel’s abandoned purse.
The screen, cracked but still functioning, lit up with an incoming message.
The sender was listed as MARCUS.
Only four words appeared.
YOU ARRESTED MY FATHER.
Before anyone could speak, another message arrived.
NOW OPEN THE BASEMENT.
Daniel looked toward the basement door at the end of the hallway.
I had lived in the house for thirty-one years.
That door had never possessed a lock.
Tonight, a thin line of light glowed beneath it.
And from the other side came three slow knocks.
