Chapter 5 - The Voice on the Radio"Leo," I repeated, the name tasting like lead on my tongue. I gently reached out, placing my hand on his thin shoulder. "Leo, do you remember where you lived before this house? Do you remember your parents?"
Leo shook his head slowly, tears spilling silently down his cheeks. "All I remember is a red car, shouting, and then... Mama Martha locking the door. She said the outside world was full of monsters who ate children. She said the only reason she kept me was because my real sister abandoned us to join the military."
Sheriff Walker stepped back up the stairs, pulling his radio from his tactical vest with shaking hands.
"Dispatch, this is Walker. Code Red at the Mitchell residence. We have recovered a rescued minor, Leo Vance—wait, cross that, pending identity verification—and we have discovered an active evidence cache containing multiple missing persons identity files. I need the FBI field office in Richmond notified immediately. Lock down all state borders. Be on the lookout for a black Ford Explorer, license plate 4-X-ray-Victor-99."
"Copy that, Sheriff," the dispatcher's voice crackled through the static. "Be advised... we have a priority bulletin coming in from the state police intercept team on Route 9."
Sheriff Walker pressed the radio closer to his ear. "Go ahead, dispatch."
"The suspect vehicle just attempted to run a highway blockade near mile marker 45. The driver refused to stop. State troopers deployed spike strips."
My breath caught in my throat. "Did they catch them?"
"Negative, Sheriff," the dispatcher replied, a heavy note of shock in her voice. "The Explorer swerved off the overpass into the river ravine. The vehicle rolled over three times and burst into flames before rescue units could arrive. Local fire crews are on the scene now, but... initial reports indicate zero survivors."
The basement went dead silent.
Even Leo seemed to understand the gravity of the words, staring blankly at the floorboards above our heads where the echoes of my parents' footsteps would never be heard again.
May you like
"It's over," Sheriff Walker murmured, looking down at the open ammunition cans filled with blood money and stolen lives. "Your parents... they took their secrets straight to the grave."
"No," I said, standing up slowly, my eyes fixed on the rows of composition notebooks lining the shelves. "They didn't take anything. They left a paper trail that spans twenty years. And I'm going to read every single word."
