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“Under the floor,” I said.
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The first officer crouched beside the cage, keeping his eyes on my face.
“What’s under the floor?”
“My phone. Loose panel. Left corner.”
He found the metal edge and lifted it carefully, revealing the phone wrapped in cloudy plastic.
The battery symbol glowed red when he woke the screen.
Marcus twisted against the officer holding him.
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“That isn’t hers,” he shouted. “She planted that. You don’t understand what she does when she’s unstable.”
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I gave the officer the passcode and told him to open the recordings.
He did not play them aloud.
