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"Your dad gave it to the local police forcewhen she went ht, Dad and the club had been out for hours searching, scouring for a trace Dad left randmother, Olivia My three best friends stayed with me at her place I was ten and they watched ain

I crackme back to the present--back to her picture I reseht, but I have her blond hair and blue eyes Proble blue of her eyes I see ice

"Does the club ever discuss what happened that night?" From where the detective stands, he blocks the sun, so I can look up without squinting "About what they saw?"

An uneasiness tenses my shoulder blades "Why would they?"

He doesn’t answer It’s apparent pages and photos arefrom the file There’s a picture of Mom’s smashed-up car, but not one photo of her inside A report that is mostly blacked out and a slew of papers that appear like they should go together, but pages two, five and seven through nine are absent

"What’s this?" I show hiibberish Numbers and letters in odd co that’s where you can help me Several of those have come into our possession, and we have reason to believe it’s es from within your club"

The edge in his voice slices through my skin Your club There’s an insinuation there One that causes a dark den of Terror looked for your ," he says "They reported a problem with her way before normal people would have known there was an issue She left work, and a half hour later they were on full alert Sound nor, disgruntled noise leaves his throat "Sounds like they knew exactly as going on Especially since they were the ones who found her"

The second part of his statement trips me up and causes e They were the ones who found her The club had kept me in the dark on that piece of inforn of Terror for the past year Longer than you’ve been a it, but they protest too much There are secrets in this club You know this, and so do I"

I’ve been a patched-in member for only a feweant at arms It’s his job to protect the club, to protect the president You have to be a crazy MFer for that job He’s insane enough to love the position

I was born and raised in the Terror clubhouse This bastard thinks he knows the club because he’s been "investigating" us He knows nothing He’s oneto destroy what he doesn’t understand

"Aren’t you curious how your mother died?" he asks

"It was an accident," I snap

"You believe it was an accident because you were told it was an accident"

It’s better than the alternative--that Mom took her own life I meet his stare, and we become statues as we carry on the eye shon