Chapter 86
EMMA
The evidence folder.
Oh God—the evidence folder.
The folder was in my father's office. In the desk drawer, hidden beneath tax documents and veterinary records.
And my father's office was in the house.
The house that's currently a smoking ruin.
My knees go weak as the realization crashes over me.
"Emma?" Jake's voice cuts through the fog. "What is it?"
I turn slowly, looking at what's left of the structure. The roof has collapsed. The walls are blackened, skeletal. Smoke still rises from the wreckage, thick and acrid, coating the back of my throat. Ash drifts through the air like snow.
Everything inside is gone.
There’s not a chance in hell those records survived.
"Emma." Jake's hand is on my arm now, his grip firm. "Talk to me."
I can't. I blink up into his eyes, shaking my head.
Because if I tell him about the folder, I have to admit I hid it from him. I have to admit I found documentation of Turner family crimes and chose to keep it a secret.