ADRIAN’s POV
Four years ago, Damien had stood in a conference room and listened to a recording of a voice coordinating the accident that unalived Serena and my son and had said he recognized the voice. And then changed and said he was mistaken.
And for four years while I buried my wife, struggled with my company and married another woman. Slowly, accepted a version of events that left him entirely outside the frame.
And just last night again, he had sat across from me and handed me Gerald Fitch. The thoughts in my mind raced against each other.
“There’s one more thing,” Reeves said.
I looked up. He reached across and turned to the second page of the folder.
Another document. An ok der paper, the scan slightly uneven, the kind of file that had been photographed rather than properly di
