front gate.”
“Who?” I asked.
“I didn’t see. It was placed just outside the camera angle.”
Samuel immediately stood. “Don’t open it yet.”
But the envelope had my name on it.
And beneath my name, written in a different hand, were three words.
Ask Emma first.
The room went completely still.
Emma rose slowly.
Her face had gone pale again, but her eyes were steady.
Samuel put on gloves from his briefcase and opened the envelope with careful precision. Inside was a single flash drive and a folded piece of paper.
He unfolded the paper.
Then he looked at Emma.
“What does it say?” I asked.
Samuel handed it to her.
Emma read it silently.
Her hand flew to her mouth.
I stepped closer. “Emma?”
She turned the note toward me.
There were only two sentences.
Rose Avery didn’t die when they told you she did.
And Clara Whitaker was
