Chapter 25 - The Cryptic Envelope
On a foggy Tuesday morning in late autumn, I walked down the long driveway to collect our morning mail.
Among the glossy magazines and utility bills sat a single, heavy cream envelope without a return address.
My name was written on the front in sharp, familiar cursive handwriting that made my blood instantly run cold.
I tore open the seal with trembling fingers, pulling out a folded piece of thick stationary paper.
Inside was a single high-resolution photograph taken from the treeline bordering our new Santa Barbara property.
It showed Genevieve and the twins playing happily on our back porch just forty-eight hours prior.
Written across the back of the photograph in dark red ink was a message that shattered my peaceful world:
May you like
*“You thought Crosby Vane was the mastermind, Lawson... but he was merely taking orders from your wife’s real family.”*
I stared at the photograph in absolute horror as the fog rolled in over the Pacific Ocean...
