Chapter 5 - The Knock at the Door
The doorbell rang a second time, insistent and unyielding.
Daniel’s hand dropped from my arm as if he’d been burned. His head whipped around toward the hallway. “Who’s at the door at three in the morning?”
“Visitors,” I said coldly, walking past him toward the study door.
“Meg, wait—” he hissed, lunging forward to grab my wrist, but I twisted away from his grip with a sharp, practiced agility he hadn't expected.
I pushed past him, stepped out into the dark hallway, and walked swiftly down the stairs. The house felt entirely different now—no longer a sanctuary, but a battlefield where the lines had finally been drawn in blood.
When I reached the front foyer, I flipped on the porch light.
Through the frosted glass of the front door, I could make out the broad, unmistakable silhouette of Detective Harris, flanked by two uniformed officers standing quietly on the porch mat.
I unlocked the deadbolt, pulled the heavy wooden door open just a few inches, and looked out into the cold night air.
Harris didn't smile. He held up a thick manila folder stamped with a judge's emergency signature, his eyes sharp and alert.
“Mrs. Foster,” Harris said clearly, his voice carrying into the foyer. “We have an active arrest warrant for Daniel Foster and Rachel Vance on charges of conspiracy to commit premeditated murder and felony financial fraud. Is he inside the residence?”
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Before I could answer, heavy footsteps pounded down the stairs behind me.
Daniel came skidding around the corner into the foyer, his face pale with absolute terror, realizing the game was finally, irrevocably over. He took one look at the badge in Harris’s hand, spun around toward the kitchen, and bolted for the back door.
