“Take your hand off me.”

He laughed. “Or what?”

Red and blue lights washed across his face before I answered.

Detective Ruiz’s voice cut through the rain.

“Or you explain the locked garage.”

Mark’s hand dropped.

For the first time, his arrogance cracked.

And I smiled.

Just a little.

Part 3

The garage door opened with a scream of metal.

Emily lay on the floor beside an overturned chair, wrists bruised, mouth taped, her hair stuck to her cheeks. Alive.

Alive.

I ran toward her, but Ruiz caught my shoulder.

“Let the paramedics.”

“No.” Emily’s eyes found mine. “Mom.”

That single word destroyed every calm piece of me.

I knelt beside her while an officer cut the tape. Her first breath sounded like glass breaking.