Andtime.
“Chloe, if you ever hear this, I am sorry I let fear teach you silence. Your father loved us.
He fought for us. And if they kill him, it will not be because he murdered me.
It will be because powerful people needed one innocent man to carry all their sins.”
Gavin covered his face.
Mitchell turned away, blinking hard.
At 4:12 that afternoon, emergency subpoenas went out.
To the prosecutor’s office.
To the neighbor.
To the clinic.
To Chloe’s grandmother.
By evening, state police had placed the grandmother’s house under watch.
But when investigators arrived with a warrant, Chloe’s grandmother was not there.
The back door was open.
The kitchen table was cleared.
And in the bedroom where Chloe had seen her mother crying, they found one thing left behind.
A framed photograph of Chloe.
On the back, written in fresh ink,
were seven words:
