Then something unexpected happened.
A second envelope fell out of the velvet lining—smaller, sealed, and labeled in handwriting I recognized instantly from my grandmother’s letters. Tracy froze with it still in her fingers like she’d just realized she was holding something she was never meant to touch.
Downstairs, Sierra finally spoke. Her voice cracked as she looked at me, not at the phone.
« What is that? » she whispered.
But I didn’t answer her.
Because on the camera feed, Tracy had just broken the seal.
And whatever was inside that envelope made her sit down on the edge of the bed like her legs had stopped working.
The sheriff was already reaching for the door handle when my phone buzzed again—motion detected, upstairs hallway.
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