Conrad’s fists at his sides clenched and unclenched. Finally, he suppressed the overwhelming urge to slam his hand on the doorbell. He laughed, a hollow, bitter sound, and took two steps back. In the dim light, his face was a mask of grim fury.
He strode back to his car, and with a roar of the engine, he sped away, the tires viciously kicking up a spray of water from the rain-soaked street.
...
The next morning, Annika woke up, got dressed, and fed Monroe his bottle. Just as she handed the baby to Lana and was about to leave for work, the doorbell rang. She opened it and found two police officers standing on her doorstep.
Before she could speak, the officer in front spoke first. “Are you Annika Sargent?”
“Yes, I am. How can I help you?” Annika asked politely.
“Between 7:10 PM and 8:40 PM last night, were you in the seaside district?” the officer asked, his expression stern.
Annika answered truthfully, “Yes, I was.”
“Last night, Ms. Serena Lawson was murdered in a villa in that district. We have statements placing you at the scene and records showing you purchased a Model 1345 combat knife locally, so we need you to come with us.”
Annika was stunned. “Officer, there must be some mistake. I did go to the district, but I was looking for a woman named Lydia. I never saw Serena.”
The officer’s gaze grew colder. “The murder occurred at Lydia’s villa—the one we understand your father, Marcus Sargent, left to her. Our preliminary investigation suggests you went there to confront Lydia about the property, ran into Serena, and the situation escalated.”
The officer's words sounded like a plot from a television drama, and somehow, she had been cast as the killer without her knowledge. It was utterly absurd.
“I went to see Lydia about my father’s villa, that’s true. If you don’t believe me, you can speak to my lawyer. He can verify my intentions.”
Annika immediately tried to call the lawyer she had contacted the previous night. After a brief explanation, she handed the phone to the officer.


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