She closes the door, and I sit there for a long second, staring at the journal, wondering if what I’m feeling is guilt, fate, or just coincidence.
My laptop dings.
The sound of an email coming through.
Subject:Forensics Update.
From: Detective Barnett.
I open it.
Nathan,
DNA from the abandoned vehicle did not return a match,
and it appears he left in a rush. We are still looking.
— Barnett
I read it twice.
No match.
Rushed.
I close the laptop slowly.
I lean back in my chair, staring at the screen long after it goes dark.
If he did it, he wouldn’t leave a car like that.
He’d burn it. Dump it in a river. Do something final.
Rushed feels different.
Rushed feels like panic.
Like someone trying to get ahead of something.
Not someone hiding what they did.
I exhale slowly.
Running from the police isn’t the same thing as running from a crime.
And for the first time since he stood in my office, pleading, a small, unwelcome thought settles in.
What if they’re wrong?
Chapter 22
Ella
It’s been three hours since Nathan walked out of here like a walking fever dream, and Ashton is still buzzing like she downed five espresso shots and started her own conspiracy podcast, which is not a bad idea, all things considered.
She’s been giving me side-eye from the front counter while pretending to organize macarons by mood.
“So…” she finally says, voice low and loaded. “How was thestorage room?”
