The video had been replayed twenty-seven times.
Ethan knew because Daniel had counted.
Twenty-seven times of watching a little boy run through a garden.
Twenty-seven times of hearing a child call him Uncle Ethan.
Twenty-seven times of searching for answers that refused to appear.
Black Manor had become a place of investigation again.
Files covered the dining table.
Photographs covered the walls.
Every piece of information about Noah Hart was being examined.
But nothing made sense.
A child connected to Amelia.
A child connected to the Hart family.
A child hidden for years.
And somehow…
A child who knew Ethan.
“Ethan.”
Amelia stood in the doorway.
He didn’t look away from the documents.
“Did you sleep?”
“I’m fine.”
She sighed.
“That’s not what I asked.”
He remained sile
