her oldest daughter.”
The silence in the interrogation room was no longer just tense.
It was heavy, suffocating, and absolute.
And the buzzing of the fluorescent tube above us sounded like a chainsaw.
Vance finally exhaled.
It was a long, slow breath.
He ran a heavy hand over his exhausted face, the cynical superiority entirely scrubbed from his posture.
He wasn’t looking at a suspect anymore.
He was looking at the architect of the most airtight conspiracy case his department would see this decade.
He reached for the heavy iron
