Henry

My phone buzzed in my pocket just as I pulled into the driveway.

I thought it was Richard. I reached into my pocket, expecting good news—expecting another piece of the puzzle to fall into place, but it was an unknown number.

A video.. I hit play, my thumb trembling against the glass.

The footage was dark and shaking, lit only by the dim light inside what looked like a moving van. And there, slumped in the corner against the cold metal wall, was Sienna.

My wife.

Her head was drooping to one side. Her breathing was slow and wrong. She looked like someone had drugged her. Her eyes were...