Chapter 2: The Door David Feared
Margaret hurried toward the front window.
"What is that?"
Black SUVs rolled through the gates one after another.
David's face turned pale.
"They can't be here already."
The front door shook beneath three heavy knocks.
Not frantic.
Deliberate.
Professional.
A voice echoed through the hallway.
"Mr. David Carter."
"We have medical personnel and law enforcement."
"Open the door."
Margaret hissed, "Don't let them in."
David looked toward the back entrance.
Another pair of headlights appeared.
The property was surrounded.
Emma stood exactly where Grandpa had instructed—outside beneath the porch lights, fully visible to the cameras.
An ambulance arrived.
Then another vehicle.
My father stepped out.
At seventy-one years old, Richard Bennett still carried himself like the CEO who had built one of the country's largest engineering firms.
He didn't run.
He simply walked toward the house.
David had met him dozens of times.
He had never seen him angry.
Until now.
The front door opened.
My father didn't even look at David.
He walked straight to me.
His eyes found my twisted leg.
His expression hardened.
Then he quietly said four words.
"Take photographs of everything."
Several investigators immediately began documenting the kitchen.
Broken glass.
Blood.
The damaged island.
My phone.
Every detail.
David finally spoke.
May you like
"It was an accident."
Nobody answered.
