PART 3: THE SHADOW IN THE HOUSE
Mark called me back within two hours, his tone unusually grave as he delivered the preliminary findings of his digital trace.
“The messages sent to Rachel and the previous five women originated from an encrypted server,” Mark explained over the phone. “But the photo sent to Rachel was taken from an angle inside your father’s own car.”
My blood ran cold as I stood in my father’s quiet living room, looking around the house I had grown up in with fresh, terrified eyes.
I carefully slipped into my father’s home office, searching through his desk drawers for any clue or hidden device that could explain how someone was tracking his every move.
Tucked behind a framed photograph of my late mother on his bookshelf, I discovered a small, flickering black box—a live audio transmitter and GPS tracker.
Suddenly, the front door clicked open downstairs, and heavy, slow footsteps began ascending the wooden staircase toward the office.
(Who is walking up the stairs toward the office? Click “Next Page” for PART 4 to read the emotional final resolution!)
