My husband made dinner that night, and seconds after my son and I finished eating, we collapsed. I forced myself to lie still as if unconscious, and that’s when I heard him whisper on the phone, “It’s done. They’ll both be gone soon.”

I stared at her. “What do you mean?”

She leaned closer.

“He rented a storage unit under another name. We got a warrant. It looks like he’s been planning this for years.”

My stomach turned.

Years.

Not days. Not weeks. Years.

Detective Hayes continued quietly. “There’s evidence inside that could change everything.”

The drive to the storage facility felt endless. Caleb stayed beside me, his small hand gripping mine. He had been too quiet since the hospital, and that silence scared me more than tears would have.

“We’re going to get through this,” I told him. “I promise.”

He nodded, but his eyes were still full of fear.

The storage unit sat at the edge of town, hidden inside an industrial park. Police cars and forensic vans surrounded the building. Their lights flashed against the metal doors.

Inside the unit, everything looked ordinary at first. Boxes. Shelves. Bags.

Then Detective Hayes pointed toward two large duffel bags in the corner.

“This is what we found.”

I stepped closer, dread tightening around my chest.

Inside were research papers. Toxicology articles. Notes on poisons, symptoms, timing, dosage, and detection. Marcus had studied how to hurt us without leaving an obvious trail.