Behind them stood a third person.
I recognized him immediately.
My hands began to shake.
It was Michael.
But that wasn’t what made my blood run cold.
The photograph had been taken by someone standing across the street.
And written on the back were seven words:
“They know. You need to leave now.”
I looked at Grace.
Then at the photograph.
For ten years, I had raised seven children while believing that the worst thing that had ever happened to our family was a tragic accident.
Now I wasn’t sure anymore.
And as Detective Reed walked back toward us, his phone suddenly rang.
He answered.
His face changed.
“Mrs. Miller,” he said slowly.
“We may have a problem.”
“What kind of problem?”
He looked directly at the photograph in my hand.
“The person who owned that dark SUV…”
He paused.
“…was never investigated.”
I felt the world tilt beneath my feet.
Because according to Detective Reed, that person had disappeared from the area immediately after the accident.
And now, after ten years of silence…
Someone had just tried to access my son’s old bank account.
Someone who was using a name I had never expected to see again.
