He didn’t look confused.
He didn’t look shocked.
For one unguarded second, Marcus looked afraid.
“What is this?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Marcus.”
“I swear, Danielle. I have no idea.”
But he was already scanning the street.
Looking around the yard.
Moving his hands.
Thinking.
It was the performance of someone desperately trying to buy himself a few seconds.
“This has to be some kind of prank,” he said quickly. “Maybe they got the wrong house.”
“The wrong house?”
“I don’t know. I’m trying to understand this too.”
Then my phone vibrated inside the pocket of my robe.
Something about the timing made my stomach tighten before I even looked.
Unknown number.
No contact name.
Just a video attachment and a short message.
Before you ask him anything, you need to see this.
I opened the video.
The footage was dark and slightly grainy.
