Brandon stared at the photographs, his mouth opening and closing.

“You tied an eighty-two-year-old man to a radiator for four days,” I said, stepping close. “You withheld his heart medication to trigger a medical crisis, and then you staged an assault to trick local police into committing him.”

“That’s — that’s a lie!” Chloe screamed, backing toward the kitchen. “He fell! He’s bruised because he’s old! You can’t prove anything!”

“We don’t have to,” Thorne said, moving between her and the back door. “An hour ago, state forensics served a warrant on the basement. They recovered six heavy-duty zip-ties with your fingerprints and skin cells on them.

They found the landline wire you cut. And they found the empty pill bottles in your trash.”

Chloe dropped back into her chair, her hands flying to her face, a ragged sob tearing out of her as the arrogance finally collapsed.