Chapter 11 - THE HOUSE THAT WASN'T OURSThe police searched the apartment.
They found nothing.
No fingerprints.
No camera.
No forced entry.
The photograph was professionally printed.
The metadata had been erased.
"She knows how to disappear," Mark told us.
"Then we make ourselves impossible to reach."
We moved.
Not to another apartment.
To Richard's old property outside Charlotte.
A large house surrounded by woods.
Security cameras went up.
Locks were changed.
Passwords were replaced.
Our daily routines changed.
Ryan hated every second of it.
I hated what it did to Olivia.
But fear had become a luxury we could no longer afford.
One night, while checking the security footage, I noticed something.
A car.
Black sedan.
Parked across the road.
It appeared every night.
Same time.
Same position.
I zoomed in.
The license plate was blurred.
But the driver wasn't.
A woman sat behind the wheel.
Silver hair.
Perfect posture.
I whispered one word.
May you like
"Diane."
Then the screen went black.
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