Home Entertainment Game Technology Advertisement Part 2: For eight years, my parents made me leave the house every time my brother brought his fiance over; Mom said, “She comes from a good family, don’t embarrass us”; Dad added, “Just disappear for the weekend”; I did; then one weekend, I never came back; it took them four years to find out where I went.

"Could it still exist?"

"We're looking into that."

I stared toward the greenhouse.

Somewhere, perhaps in a drawer or hidden safe, was the small device Nina had held up before she fell.

The last thing she'd tried to protect.

And possibly the one piece of evidence that could explain everything.

***

That afternoon, my phone rang.

Unknown number.

I almost ignored it.

Then I answered.

"Hello?"

A man's voice spoke.

"Stacey?"

I froze.

I hadn't heard that voice in four years.

But I recognized it immediately.

My father.

Mitch Lockheart.

For several seconds, neither of us spoke.

Then he said, "I hear you've been making accusations."

My hands began shaking.

"I've been telling the truth."

He sighed.

"You always did have an imagination."

I closed my eyes.

Even now.

Even after the documents.

The video.

The insurance claim.

He was still trying to make me doubt myself.

I took a slow breath.