Chapter Ten
The scent of rotting leaves and dirt and the snap of branches surrounded them as they made their way into the forest, to the spot he had run to in the dead of night. Even though Owen knew it well, he hadn’t been back since that night so long ago.
Marcus still hadn’t said more than two words to him since kissing Charlotte and then climbing in his van so Owen could drive. He knew this kind of evidence could stir up a world of problems for all of them.
“I don’t understand why you’d bury a knife,” Marcus said. “You ever heard of washing it, bleaching it to destroy the evidence, and then burning the rag? And I still don’t understand how you didn’t question Mom on what happened. You said you heard something, a fight—what else?” Marcus had transformed into the cop who wasn’t lettin
