Evelyn covered her face.
“I’m so sorry.”
I turned toward her.
“Who locked him in?”
She looked at me.
And whispered, “My husband.”
My mind went blank.
“Your husband?”
Evelyn nodded.
“Claire’s father.”
I stared at her.
Claire’s father, Richard, had died in a boating accident when she was seventeen.
At least, that was what she’d told me.
I’d seen photographs of him.
I’d listened to stories about him.
I’d stood beside Claire at the cemetery where she visited his grave every Father’s Day.
And suddenly, none of those memories felt real.
“You’re telling me Richard tried to kill my brother?”
Evelyn didn’t answer.
She simply began crying harder.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered immediately.
“Hello?”
At first, there was only breathing.
Then a man’s voice spoke.
Low.
Calm.
Almost amused.
“Daniel.”
I froze.
“Who is this?”
