CHAPTER 91
Cooper Daniels stared down at the murder weapon in his neighbor's sock drawer, wondering how the hell he'd gotten here. The world will never know what really happened that night. And I'd like to keep it that way...for now. The knife stared back at him innocently, all serrated edges and gleaming steel—a stark contrast to the fuzzy green socks shoved in the back corner of the drawer. Cooper knew that knife well. Too well. He knew what it would feel like in his hands. Just as he knew what it would feel like when he drove it through someone's back. This isn't the same knife, Cooper reminded himself, slamming the drawer shut. That knife—the one he'd buried in Cory's spine— would have been sealed away in storage, evidence for the gruesome string of murders that had haunted his sleep
- Writer
