Burke joined him, gloves snapping into place.
“Emily’s?” Burke asked.
“Matches her description.”
Burke’s expression tightened. “Pattern.”
“Not architect,” Scout said.
Downstairs
Melissa’s voice fractured from the living room.
Scout and Burke reached the stairs as she sank onto the couch, clutching the child while Denton explained what they’d found.
Keller stood near the wall, arms hanging at his sides.
“You told me she was lying,” Melissa said. “You said she was nothing.”
“I made a mistake,” Keller said. “Melissa… please?—”
She recoiled.
“Get out.”
Burke stepped in. “Mr. Keller, you need to come with us.”
As Denton guided him toward the door, Burke said, “Phone.”
Keller blinked. “What?”
“Your phone. Now.”
He hesitated—just long enough to matter—eyes flicking to Melissa before he handed it over.
Burke sealed it in an evidence bag.
“We’ll review your communications.”
Keller’s mouth opened, then closed.
Scout logged the hesitation.
Keller complied without resistance.
The toddler reached up and wiped at Melissa’s face.
She broke completely.
Scout turned away.
Outside
Snow drifted across the porch as Burke guided Keller toward the vehicle.
Not their architect.
But not innocent.
