My mother stepped beside Richard.
Then she looked at me with an expression I had never seen before.
“I'm sorry, sweetheart,” she whispered.
“But we need your signature.”
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CHAPTER 3: THE STRANGER AT MY MOTHER'S DOOR KNEW MY NAME—AND HE HAD COME FOR SOMETHING SHE WAS HIDING
“Sweetheart… there's a young man at my door. He says you sent him.”
My mother's voice trembled through the telephone.
For one terrible second, I couldn't breathe.
I was standing in the hospital corridor, holding a photograph of my mother that the police had just discovered inside Alex's backpack.
Beside me, Detective Leah Ortiz was examining the other pictures.
Six elderly women.
Seven names.
Seven addresses.
And on the back of my mother's photograph, a message that made my hands shake.
NEXT TARGET — HER DAUGHTER HAS ACCESS TO THE HOUSE.
