The kind that makes your body react before your brain understands why.
I walked downstairs.
My children were still asleep.
I looked through the window.
And my stomach tightened.
A sheriff’s vehicle was parked outside.
A man in uniform stood at my front door.
For a second, every possible thought entered my mind.
Had someone accused me of stealing the wallet?
Had Walter changed his mind?
Had something happened?
I opened the door slowly.
“Evan Carter?”
“Yes?”
The man looked at me.
“I’m Sheriff Daniel Hayes.”
I nodded.
“Is something wrong?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, he looked past me.
At my house.
At the family photos on the wall.
At the children’s shoes by the door.
Then he looked back at me.
“We need to talk.”
Those words.
Those simple words.
They made my heart drop.
Because nothing good starts with “we need to talk.”
I stepped outside and closed the door behind me.
“Did I do something wrong?”
The sheriff shook his head.
“No.”
That should have made me feel better.
It didn’t.
“Then why are you here?”
He took a deep breath.
“Because of Walter Bennett.”
My expression changed.
“What about him?”
“He told me everything.”
