“Grandma puts me in the freezer when I spill my juice,” my 7-year-old daughter sobbed in my arms. As I carried her to my heated truck, she gestured to a second, padlocked freezer hidden under my old boxes. “Don’t touch that one,” she whispered. “That’s where Grandpa went eight years ago…”

face.

He unclipped a pair of heavy bolt cutters from his utility belt. “Step back, Mr. Danvers.”

With a sharp, metallic *CRUNCH*, Vance severed the padlock. The heavy chain rattled to the concrete floor.

Vance put on a pair of black latex gloves, reached down, and slowly lifted the lid.

***

### Chapter 3: The Fracture of Lies

A thick, stale, sickening cloud continue reading …