Stephanie's POV
The phone buzzed on the kitchen table, a loud, ugly sound in the quiet morning. We were all there, crowded around, drinking coffee, pretending to be normal. Cane was buttering toast for our son. Josh was scrolling on a tablet. Jolina was braiding her hair.
I looked at the screen. An unknown number. A text. My heart, for just a second, did a hard, painful thump. Old habits.
I opened it.
The picture loaded. A small white box. Black velvet inside. And on it, a small, pale finger. A child's finger. The nail was perfect. There was too much blood at the base.
The message underneath was pure, unhinged Armstrong. You took my life...
For a count of five, there was absolute silence. The kind of silence that sucks all the air out of the world. I felt Cane go rigid beside me. I heard Mabel's sharp intake of breath from the sink.
Then, a snort.
