“You shouldn’t have come, Grant. Now we’re all in danger.” Just then, a black car pulled up behind us, and my daughter screamed…

hands dropped it entirely.

She rotated to face me. Her dark, fathomless eyes—eyes that held entirely too much grief for her age—were overflowing.

“Sir…” Her voice splintered into jagged pieces. “Why do you keep a photograph of my mother in your hallway?”

Chapter 2: The Descent into Maple Street

A deafening, high-pitched ringing consumed my auditory senses,continue reading …