Chapter 24 - The Blood in the Shadow
The silence in the office was suffocating, broken only by the low, dying hum of the reel-to-reel magnetic tape. Detective Ruiz kept his service weapon leveled at the frosted glass door, his knuckles whitening against the grip. Julian stepped firmly between me and the entrance, his broad shoulders shielding me entirely, his fingers brushing against mine in a desperate reassurance.
"Stay back, Elaine," Julian whispered, his voice tense, vibrating with an adrenaline I had never heard in him before. "Ruiz, don't open it yet."
"Police! Step back from the door and keep your hands visible!" Detective Ruiz commanded, his voice echoing off the exposed brick walls of our office.
Through the translucent glass, the tall silhouette didn't flinch. Slowly, deliberately, two open palms pressed against the outside of the glass, fingers splayed wide in a gesture of surrender.
"I'm not armed, Detective," a low, resonant voice called through the frame. The timbre of it sent a violent shiver down my spine. It carried the exact cadence of my own speech, the same slight drop in pitch at the end of every sentence. "And I'm not here to hurt anyone. I’m here because Bernice’s leash snapped the moment she tried to burn that wedding dress."
Evelyn crouched near the edge of the mahogany desk, her hands trembling as she picked up the manila envelope that had slid across the floorboards. She held it out to Julian, who carefully inspected it before looking at me.
"Elaine Hastings," the voice outside spoke again, softer this time, laced with an agonizing mixture of grief and longing. "Or whatever name they forced you to answer to. My name is Lucas. And our mother didn't die for us to live like ghosts."
My knees nearly gave out. Julian caught my arm, his eyes searching mine. "Elaine, you don't have to face him right now. We can have Ruiz take him in for questioning."
"No," I breathed, my heart hammering against my ribs until it felt bruised. "Open the door."
Detective Ruiz took a breath, unlocked the deadbolt with a sharp click, and pulled the door inward while maintaining his defensive stance.
Standing in the amber glow of the hallway light was a young man in a worn dark jacket. He stood over six feet tall, with high cheekbones, dark chestnut hair, and eyes that struck me like a physical blow. They were the exact, piercing hazel-green eyes that I looked at in the mirror every single morning—the eyes Bernice had spent twenty-six years trying to ignore.
May you like
He looked at me, and his breath hitched. For several agonizing seconds, neither of us moved. The world seemed to collapse into the narrow space between us.
"You look just like the photograph she kept inside her locket," Lucas whispered, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "The one they took from her body on Route 50."
