The late afternoon sun filtered through budding trees, casting dappled golden light over the quiet suburban street. Birds chirped cheerily, dogs barked in distant backyards, and the world seemed—at a glance—peaceful.
But behind the tinted windows of a black police SUV parked across the street from a charming two-story home, that peace was rotting.
Kyle sat in the driver’s seat, elbow on the door, one finger tapping his lips. His eyes were fixed on the backyard of Marvin and Gale’s house. The corner of his mouth twitched as he watched the boy.
Theodore.
Seven years old. Tiny. Fragile. Vulnerable.
The kid was kneeling in the backyard, carefully organizing a line of plastic dinosaurs in the grass beside a toy truck. His tongue peeked from the corner of his mouth as he focused, unaware of
