The system had known exactly what was in that house.
“I’m on my way,” Tomás said.
Into the Deep
The midday sun did nothing to warm the skeletal remains of 47 Alamo Street. Yellow crime scene tape now fluttered in the breeze, casting jagged shadows across the dirt yard. Two police cruisers were parked askew outside, their roof lights spinning silently.
Tomás slid under the tape, his hand instinctively resting on the grip of his service weapon. He walked into the house, passing the empty space where he had found Lili just hours before. The wall with her drawings seemed even more ominous now. In the harsh daylight, he noticed something he had missed in the dark: the stick figures of the “daddy” in her drawings didn’t have normal faces. They were drawn with large, completely blacked-out circles for heads, wearing what looked like heavy hoods.
“Down here, Reyes,” Mariana’s voice echoed from a dark corner of the bedroom.
