“Yes,” I said cautiously.

“We have Austin.”

For the very first time in five years, I found myself wondering whether being supported by someone and being protected by them were actually two completely different things.

After I tucked Daisy safely back into her own bed, I knew I wouldn’t be getting any sleep the rest of the night.

I took Brandon’s note down to the kitchen, laid it flat on the wooden table under the yellow overhead light, and read the short message over and over until the words felt carved into my brain.

“Please do not trust the first police report.”