Mike
I didn’t sleep the night Eloise called.
Her voice echoed in my head, raw, broken, full of a pain I’d never wanted to cause. The worst part wasn’t that she suspected me. The worst part was knowing I couldn’t even blame her. From the outside, I was the obvious choice. The only one besides Ava who had seen the children’s designs. The only one who’d been close enough to every sketch, every idea.
And I hated it.
The apartment was silent. I stood by the window, staring out at the city, watching the distant lights flicker like dying stars. My reflection stared back, dark circles, clenched jaw, fists pressed against the glass.
Someone was doing this to her. And I was going to find out who.
…
The next morning, I started where I always did, quietly, carefully. I reached out to a friend o
