"Sheriff Hayes, if you're hearing this, it means they've found you."
A pause.
"Please don't let them take my daughter."
The call ended.
And behind Daniel, someone quietly locked the evidence room door.
The sound of the lock turning behind him made Daniel freeze.
For several seconds, he stood motionless in the evidence room, staring at the mobile phone on the metal table. The screen had gone dark, but the last words he had heard continued echoing in his mind.
"Please don't let them take my daughter."
Someone had locked him inside.
Daniel immediately turned toward the door and pulled the handle. It wouldn't move. He struck the metal twice with his fist.
"Open this door! Sheriff Hayes!"
No response.
He reached for his radio, but there was no signal. Whoever had locked him inside knew exactly how the building worked.
Daniel looked around the room. The small security camera above the entrance was pointing toward the ceiling.
That was no accident.
He took a deep breath, forced himself to remain calm, and searched the shelves for something he could use to open the door. After several minutes, he found an old metal screwdriver inside a maintenance box.
It took him nearly ten minutes to release the damaged lock.
When the door finally opened, he stepped into the corridor with his weapon drawn.
"Who's there?"
The hallway was empty.
He rushed toward the security office and checked the surveillance recordings. The cameras showed him entering the evidence room at 12:31 a.m. A minute later, the footage went black.
But before the system shut down, another figure appeared at the end of the hallway.
A woman.
She was wearing a dark coat and carrying a large handbag.
Daniel paused the recording and enlarged her face.
He recognized her immediately.
It was Margaret Collins, the county's chief medical examiner.
Margaret had worked with him on Emily Carter's murder investigation fifteen years earlier. She had testified that the victim's injuries were consistent with the estimated time of death.
But why had she entered the building after midnight?
Daniel called her number.
No answer.
He tried again.
This time, someone picked up.
"Daniel?" Margaret sounded frightened.
"Margaret, where are you?"
A long silence followed.
"I told you to leave the past alone."
Daniel's eyes narrowed.
"You locked me inside the evidence room."
"I didn't."
"I have security footage of you entering the building."
Margaret began breathing heavily.
"Listen to me carefully. You have no idea what you're dealing with."
"Then explain it."
"I can't."
"Why?"
"Because Emily isn't the only person who's still alive."
The call ended.
Daniel stared at his phone.
There were now too many questions and too few answers.
He returned to his office and opened the original case file. He searched through the witness statements, looking for anything connected to Margaret.
Then he found something unusual.
The medical report had been amended twice before it was submitted to the prosecutor. The first version listed the victim's estimated time of death as uncertain. The final version gave an exact window of six hours.
Someone had changed the report.
Daniel checked the signature.
Margaret Collins.
He was about to print the document when his office computer received another email.
This time, the sender used a recognizable name.
Emily Carter.
The message contained only an address and a time.
Old Miller Road. House 17. Tomorrow. 9:00 p.m. Come alone.
Daniel read it twice.
He knew Old Miller Road. It was a forgotten residential street near the abandoned railway station. Most of the houses had been empty for years.
He looked at the photograph of Emily and the little girl.
Perhaps the woman in the picture was still alive.
Perhaps the little girl was still waiting for someone to protect her.
At 8:45 the following evening, Daniel parked his car three streets away from the address. He walked the remaining distance through the rain.
House 17 looked abandoned. Its windows were covered with dusty curtains, and the garden was overgrown with weeds.
Daniel knocked three times.
Nothing happened.
He knocked again.
A small light appeared behind the curtains.
Then the door opened slightly.
A woman stood in the darkness.
Her hair was longer, her face older, and a faint scar crossed her left cheek.
But Daniel recognized her eyes.
"Emily?"
The woman immediately pulled him inside and locked the door.
"Don't say that name."
Daniel stared at her.
"You're supposed to be dead."
Emily looked at him with tears gathering in her eyes.
"That's what they wanted everyone to believe."
"Who?"
She didn't answer.
Instead, she walked toward a small table and placed a photograph in front of him.
It showed Daniel standing outside the courthouse fifteen years earlier.
Beside him was a younger woman.
Daniel felt his heart stop.
The woman was his wife, Sarah.
But Sarah had died in a car accident twelve years ago.
Emily pointed at the photograph.
"Your wife knew everything, Sheriff."
Daniel slowly raised his eyes.
"That's impossible."
Emily shook her head.
"No. The impossible part is what happened after she discovered the truth."
Before Daniel could ask another question, a child's voice came from upstairs.
"Mommy?"
Emily immediately turned toward the staircase.
"Stay upstairs, sweetheart."
But the child continued.
"Is he the sheriff?"
Emily closed her eyes.
Then she looked back at Daniel.
"There's something you need to know about that little girl."
Suddenly, a car engine roared outside.
Emily rushed to the window.
Her face turned pale.
"They found us."
A loud crash shook the front door.
Daniel reached for his weapon.
And Emily whispered the words he had feared hearing.
"They're not here to arrest me. They're here to kill my daughter."
Daniel pushed Emily away from the window just as the first bullet shattered the glass.
"Get down!"
The two of them fell behind the living room sofa. Another shot struck the wall, sending pieces of plaster across the floor.
Upstairs, the little girl began screaming.
Emily tried to stand, but Daniel grabbed her arm.