clenched.

“What do you mean, you think?” Hannah asked.

Frank struggled to breathe.

He said he remembered seeing Caleb that night.

He remembered a folder.

Some maps.

A sharp chemical smell.

After that, nothing.

He only remembered waking up in his pickup on a dirt road, mud on his shoes and dried blood on his sleeve.

“Whose blood?” Diane whispered.

Frank lowered continue reading …