And there it was.
Twist one beginning to turn.
Savannah had wanted to wound me.
But this message scared her too.
Not because she cared about me.
Because she did not understand it.
My father looked at Deputy Haskins.
“Secure Mrs. Vale. Contact courthouse security and Franklin PD. I want a unit dispatched to the Vale residence immediately. No one enters that nursery until officers document the scene.”
Marcus said, “That’s my home.”
My father looked at him.
“No, Mr. Vale. At this moment, it is a potential crime scene.”
The words struck him harder than the orders.
A potential crime scene.
Not a penthouse.
Not an asset.
Not a brand location.
A crime scene.
My phone buzzed again in the clerk’s hand.
Everyone heard it.
The clerk looked at the bench.
My father nodded.
She read the screen.
Her face drained.
“Your Honor,” she whispered.
My father took the phone.
