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TWENTY-NINE
I should have trusted my gut. I could have sworn I saw a shadow sneak by the house when I was on my way to get Kayla Friday night. But I was so eager to see her that I dismissed it and continued out the gates.
It’s not possible to enter the property without the code for the gates. But the walls aren’t high enough to prevent a criminal from climbing over.
The moment I reach back at the house, I march to Dad’s office.
His head flies up from the papers on the desk. “Bran, what’s wrong?”
“We need to check the security feed,” I rush out. “Someone broke into the guest house and destroyed Kayla’s paintings.”
Dad crumples his forehead. “Paintings? I had no idea your girlfriend was doing that here.”
“You’re oblivious about a lot of things.” I enter and walk to the large computer. “You don’t even know the recipient of your scholarship.”
“That’s Kayla?” he sputters in surprise and rises from his chair. “Geez.”
“Anyway.” I peer over my shoulder at him. “Could you please check? I need to prove to her it wasn’t me and teach the bastard a lesson.”
“You’ll do no such thing, Bran. We’ll call the police.” He comes over.
I move for him to put in his password and bring up the security feed. All cameras are active, showing the front of the property, the sides, and the backyard and guest house.
The cameras were Dad’s idea when we moved in four years ago. Though it’s a safe neighborhood, he became cautious about security after what happened to me.
“Let’s view the feed from Friday,” I tell him.
Dad opens a folder on the computer, and we keep our eyes peeled to the screen, watching for suspicious activities.
Everything appears normal throughout the day.
I glimpse where I backed out of the garage that night, pausing the moment I thought I saw something, then left.
Dad cuts to the camera at the side of the house and pulls the feed backward a few minutes.
We both straighten in shock as someone slender dressed in all black jumps from the wall, hair hidden beneath a cap, and face concealed with a dark mask.
“What the hell,” Dad gasps. “Who is that?”
Silence immerses us as we watch the bastard sneak down to the guest house.
Dad switches the feed, but there’s nothing else once the culprit enters the door because there are no cameras inside the guest house.
Huffing, Dad takes his phone out to call the police. “That’s the crook responsible for destroying your girlfriend’s work. But why? Is there someone at the academy who hates Kayla?”
“No one hates her. But some girls dislike the fact we’re dating.”
He looks away as he puts the phone to his ear. “Yes, I’d like to report a break-in at my home.”
My mind drifts as Dad explains what happened.
I try to think of suspects.
Madison and Heath stick out.
But neither are aware Kayla has been painting in my guest house, and Heath’s still in the hospital after his accident.
Other than my twin, the only other people who know are Eric and Sam. They have no reason to do that to Kayla.
