Chapter 3
The metallic click of the handcuffs releasing echoed through the silent hallway like a gunshot. Clara rubbed her raw, red wrists, glaring daggers at Chloe while stepping away from Officer Vance. The older woman's posture was rigid, belying her advanced age and the visible swelling on her cheek.
"You think this changes anything?" Clara hissed under her breath as she brushed past Chloe toward the living room archway. "The truth always surfaces, Chloe. Even if you bury it beneath a hundred layers of concrete."
Chloe didn't flinch, though every nerve ending in her body screamed for her to retaliate. She watched her mother disappear into the dim interior of the house, the faint scent of lavender and old paper trailing behind her. Officer Miller and Officer Vance stood by the front door, exchanging a silent, cryptic nod before stepping backward out onto the porch, pulling the heavy oak door halfway shut behind them without a single word of official closing procedure.
The red and blue lights continued to flash through the cracked front door, casting long, writhing shadows across the floorboards. Only Chloe and Mark remained in the suffocating stillness of the hallway.
Chloe turned slowly to face him, her hands trembling as she wrapped her arms around herself to ward off a sudden, deep-seated chill.
"Who is she, Mark?" Chloe asked, her voice dangerously quiet. "Who is Officer Miller, and why did she just sweep an assault charge under the rug like it was dust?"
Mark stood by the console table, his fingers tracing the edge of a silver picture frame that sat crookedly against the wall. He didn't look up immediately, his silhouette framed by the flashing strobes from the street.
"Miller is just a cop doing damage control, Chloe," Mark said carefully, his eyes fixed on the silver frame. "This neighborhood has a history. Certain families... they have arrangements. Your mother knows people we don't even know exist."
"Don't feed me that corporate garbage," Chloe snapped, stepping closer and jabbing a finger toward his chest. "You looked at her phone, you traded looks with her, and now you’re acting like an accomplice. What is in that wall safe, Mark? What did my mother have hidden in there that made you panic?"
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Mark finally raised his head. In the shifting red and blue light, his eyes looked completely black, devoid of the warmth she had grown accustomed to over the years.
"Your mother wasn't trying to steal money, Chloe," Mark said, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "She was looking for the original deed to this property. The one that proves your father didn't die of a heart attack twenty years ago."
