Noah’s heart stopped.
He pulled it out slowly.
It was a piece of old fabric. Faded. Dirty. Almost falling apart.
But in one corner were three small white flowers.
Hand-embroidered.
Noah sank to his knees.
— Dad…
Daniel turned around.
– What is?
Noah held the cloth up with trembling hands.
— I think that belonged to Lily.
Daniel stared at it. All the color drained from his face.
Then he whispered:
Then he whispered:
— Don’t touch anything else.
Twenty minutes later, police cars were parked in front of the house.
Everything changed when Detective Claire Bennett entered Harold’s bedroom.
It was no longer an old man’s house.
It was a crime scene.
Dann kam Margaret.
She saw the pink fabric and froze.
She didn’t scream.
This silence was worse.
—That’s Lily’s — she whispered. —I made these flowers with her.
Hours later, an officer found a brown notebook hidden in an old pillowcase.
Detective Bennett opened it.
Her face changed.
Then she looked towards the back window.
