The house clicked when Harrison opened the door, the way houses do when they've been holding their breath too long. The piano sat in the corner with its lid closed like a mouth that refused to speak. He stood in the entry and listened to the silence he had built.
“Alpha?" Brandon's voice came through the open line in Harrison's ear. He hadn't realized he'd never hung up.
“Find out," Harrison said.
“Find out what?"
“Everything." He shut the door too gently for the anger in his chest. “Mia. The hospital. Who touched her last. Who signed. Names." He swallowed. “Times."
“I'm on it."
Harrison moved through the rooms like a stranger looking for exits. The counter held an empty bowl, a spoon angled like a sundial toward a time that was already gone. He set his phone on the marble and realiz
