“Is Grant alive?”
His expression shifted.
Only slightly.
But I saw it.
“Ma’am, I need you to come with me.”
“Is my son alive?”
He looked away for half a second.
That half second nearly destroyed me.
“Please,” I whispered. “Just tell me.”
“He’ll explain everything.”
My knees weakened.
Behind me, the dining room remained exactly as I had left it.
Candles burning low.
Dinner waiting.
Six empty chairs.
“My children were supposed to be here tonight,” I said, almost to myself.
The officer’s expression softened.
“I’m sorry.”
Those two words frightened me more than anything else he’d said.
I grabbed my cardigan and purse.
Before leaving, I glanced back at the table one last time.
I had no idea whether I would return to that house as the same woman.
Part 3 — The Ride
I had never sat in the back of a police cruiser before.
The door closed behind me with a thick metallic sound.
My heart hammered harder.
The inside smelled faintly of disinfectant, vinyl, and something old I couldn’t identify.
Fear, maybe.
The officer climbed into the driver’s seat.
“Where are we going?”
“Not far.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere safe.”
