Olivia felt cold slide down her spine.
Mason whispered, “Tell her.”
Ethan looked at his mother with eyes far too old for his face.
“The black USB said Olivia problem,” he said. “But this one has a different label.”
He turned it over in his palm.
A tiny strip of faded white tape clung to its side.
Two words were written on it in Jonathan’s handwriting.
GRAY HOUSE.
Denise took one step back.
Olivia stared at the drive.
The hallway lights buzzed overhead.
Somewhere beyond the walls, reporters shouted. Phones rang. Doors opened and closed. The world continued moving as if the ground beneath Olivia Carter had not just split open.
She reached toward the silver USB, but Ethan pulled it close.
“Mom,” he whispered, “I watched one file.”
Olivia’s mouth went dry.
“What was on it?”
Ethan’s lips trembled.
“It wasn’t about custody.”
Mason began crying again.
