"You shouldn't be here," I said.
"Neither should you." He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He looked worse than he had two days ago, his face pale, his eyes sunken. "I told you to stay away."
"I told you to let me help."
He walked to the table and looked at the photographs spread across it. His jaw tightened.
"You found Victor," he said.
"I found everything. The photographs. The surveillance. The murder." I picked up the photograph of Victor Hale and held it out to him. "He was there. He was with you the night you were attacked."
Daniel took the photograph and stared at it. His hands were shaking.
"Victor was the one who saved me," he said. "He found me in the parking garage. He got me to a hospital. He helped me disappear."
"Why?"
"Because he wanted to stop h
