The same color.
Even the small faded bumper sticker on the rear window.
“That’s…” I struggled to speak. “That’s my husband’s SUV.”
The detective studied my reaction carefully.
“It must have been stolen,” I rushed to say. “Michael’s at work right now. Someone must’ve taken it.”
Hayes slowly closed the folder.
“Mrs. Carter… we already contacted his office.”
The hallway suddenly felt colder.
“They informed us your husband hasn’t worked there for nearly three months.”
The words struck like a physical blow.
Three months.
Every morning for ninety days Michael had left home dressed for work.
Every morning he had kissed me goodbye.
Every morning he drove that SUV somewhere.
But not to his job.
Where had he been going?
And why was his car the one that nearly killed our daughter?
Through the ICU window I watched Lily breathing slowly beneath the sedation.
Moments ago my biggest fear was that she wouldn’t wake up.
Now a new terror twisted inside me.
What if she did wake up…
Leave a Comment