Chapter 2 - Instead he looked at her.
Not commanding. Not asking for permission. Simply present.
Senna reached into her pocket and took out her hidden phone.
“Holt,” she said.
He looked at her with irritation.
She held up the phone.
“You always counted on frightened children staying quiet. You should have checked whether the frightened woman learned to record.”
Holt went still.
“The call. Your court order. The judge. The threats against Declan. The foundation payments. All of it has been transmitting to Deputy Marshal Webb since I stepped out of the car.”
Holt’s composure cracked. Only slightly. But Senna saw it.
So did Declan.
Headlights appeared behind the rain.
A second vehicle pulled in.
Deputy Marshal Clara Webb stepped out with two federal officers and a document folder sealed in plastic against the storm.
Holt turned toward the transport van.
Marcus moved first, blocking him without touching him.
Webb approached. “Mr. Holt. Step away from the evidence vehicle.”
Holt looked at Senna one last time.
There was no apology in him. No regret. Only disbelief that the girl he had ordered buried had learned how to stand in the open.
Webb turned to Senna. “Ms. Callahan, are you willing to give a formal statement?”
The rain soaked her hair, her clothes, her skin.
Declan stood nearby, silent.
May you like
For once, no one answered for her.
Senna lifted her chin. “Yes,” she said. “I am.”
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