I couldn’t answer. Hope is dangerous when it returns after you’ve already buried it.

I stood too fast and nearly fell, then ran downstairs. The lighthouse was still on the second shelf, between a framed school photo and Daniel’s old boating manual.

My hands shook as I lifted it. It felt heavier than it should have. Under faded felt on the bottom was a thin seam. I grabbed a kitchen knife and pried it open.

A small flash drive dropped into my palm. Sophie gasped.

I didn’t plug it into my laptop. Some instinct stopped me. Instead I called Detective Laura Bennett.

She’d been a young investigator when Daniel and the boys disappeared. Back then, she was the only one who didn’t look annoyed when I asked questions. She answered on the third ring.