“Shut up, Vanessa!” Daniel hissed, his tone sharp enough to cut. “If she’s in there, she has her phone. If she called anyone, we’re ruined before we even reach the state line. I need to make sure. I need to see them.”
The utter coldness in his voice shattered the last remaining fragment of my heart. This was the man who had kissed me goodbye before work every morning. The man who had coached Noah’s little league team. He wasn’t trying to hide his crime out of panic; he wanted to confirm his success. To him, we were just loose ends on a balance sheet that needed to be zeroed out.
Thud.
He threw his shoulder against the door. The old brass lock jingled, the wood splintering slightly around the frame.
