Chapter 7 - Returning to the Ocean
The Coronado beach house had been locked up since Grace’s passing. For years, I avoided driving past it, letting the memories wash away like footprints in the tide. But standing on the sun-bleached wooden deck with Nora holding my hand, the house felt different. It didn’t feel like a monument to grief anymore. It felt like a fresh start.
Nora ran ahead down the wooden steps, her bare feet hitting the warm sand as she chased a flock of seagulls toward the crashing Pacific waves. Her laughter—bright, uninhibited, and completely free of manufactured anxiety—echoed across the shore.
I watched her from the deck, sipping a cup of black coffee, feeling the warm sea breeze tousle my hair. The nightmare was over. The legal battles were won, the trust was secured entirely in Nora’s name, and our lives were finally our own.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. Expecting a call from Caleb or Agent Miller, I pulled it out. It was an unknown number with a local San Diego area code.
I swiped and pressed it to my ear. "Hello?"
Silence crackled on the line for a long moment. Then, a distorted, heavy-breathing voice whispered through the speaker:
"You think you won, Ethan. But you left one loose end."
The call disconnected instantly with a sharp click.
My heart slammed against my ribs. I stared at the phone screen, the digital numbers reading 5:42 PM.
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Out on the shore, Nora stopped running. She turned around and pointed toward the edge of the property line near the dunes, where the tall sea grass swayed in the wind.
"Daddy," she called out, her voice suddenly tight with a familiar, terrifying edge. "Who is that man standing by the fence?"
