Cole lunged toward me, hand outstretched. “Give me that—”
Evelyn grabbed his arm, suddenly pale. “Don’t,” she hissed. “Cole… don’t.”
He jerked away. “Mom, stay out of it.”
Grant’s voice stayed level, but it carried like steel. “Cole, step away from Hannah. Unlock the front door. Put your phone on the counter.”
Cole gave a strained laugh. “Or what?”
Grant answered like he was stating tomorrow’s weather. “Or you’ll learn why judges stop talking when my name is mentioned.”
Evelyn’s hand flew to her mouth. “Grant Mercer,” she whispered, and it sounded like old fear.
Outside, a siren rose.
Then another.
Closer.
The red and blue lights began to strobe through the kitchen window, washing Evelyn’s face in alternating colors—each flash making her look smaller, less certain.
A heavy knock hit the front door—three strikes that sounded final.
Read more on the next page ⬇️⬇️⬇️
