“I never saw it.”
“Denise.”
She grabbed my sleeve.
“Listen to me. Howard wasn’t trying to get into the house that night.”
I stared at her.
“What are you talking about?”
Her fingers trembled against my arm.
“He was trying to get out.”
Howard was almost there.
Denise released me.
Before stepping away, she whispered five words.
“Ask where the photograph ends.”
Then she walked toward her husband.
Howard grabbed her elbow.
She flinched.
I looked at Mercer.
“What did she mean?”
Mercer was already pulling out his phone.
“I think,” he said, “we need the entire video.”
And for the first time, I realized something terrifying.
The photograph had only shown us one frame.
We had no idea what happened next.
CHAPTER 4 — THE TWENTY-FOUR MINUTES THEY TRIED TO ERASE
The police reopened the investigation before sunset.
Two detectives arrived at my apartment at nine that evening.
Detective Lena Ruiz was small, sharp-eyed, and spoke softly enough that I immediately trusted her more than half the adults who had been deciding my life for the past three months.
