Grant

The gates of the Pembroke estate groaned open like they didn’t want me back.

The air was humid, the kind that clung to your skin.

I walked in with too much weight under my ribs and not enough patience in my blood.

It's been almost two weeks since Jaicy gave her statement.

Two whole weeks since she laid bare the hell she’d been dragged through. And still—still—the police hadn’t touched Hunter.

“Insufficient evidence.”

“Still investigating.”

“It’s ...