— asked Detective Sarah Vance, laying a file on the table.
Arthur swallowed hard, feeling a deep sense of failure.
— I… I wasn’t home enough. I thought they were just having a hard time bonding.
Vance nodded, then pulled several photos from the file and spread them out.
— Your wife isn’t who she says she is, Mr. Sterling. Take a look.
Arthur looked at the photos, and a wave of nausea hit him. Different cities. Different names. Different children. But the pattern was the same: a “tragic accident” involving a child, followed by a grieving stepmother who disappeared after the insurance payout or the inheritance was settled.
— This has to be a mistake, — he managed to say. — It can’t be.
— I’m afraid it isn’t. Your wife is a professional con artist—and very likely a serial killer.
Arthur felt a cold sweat break out. Evelyn had been in his house. She had been tucked into his bed while plotting his son’s death. And now she was out there. Running. Hiding. But the most terrifying thought was that she might not be finished.
Evelyn had vanished. The police launched a multi-state manhunt, but the trail was cold. Arthur sat in the detective’s office, staring blankly at the photos. Different hair colors, different glasses, but the eyes were always the same. Evelyn’s eyes.
— We’ve found she’s used at least four aliases, — Detective Vance explained, rubbing her temples. — Most recently, she was Evelyn Sterling. Before that, she was Elena Kovac, Marina Vance, and Sarah Miller. Every time, she finds a wealthy widower with a child. And every time, the child doesn’t make it.
Arthur’s fingers gripped the armrests of his chair.
— Are you saying my son is the first one to survive?
— Exactly. We suspect the previous “accidents” were anything but. But she was careful. No witnesses, no evidence. Until now.
Arthur looked up, his eyes hard.
— But now there’s a witness.
The detective nodded.
— Your son is the only person who can put her away for good.
The weight of that statement settled on Arthur. Leo could identify her. He could prove it wasn’t an accident, but attempted murder. And Evelyn knew that. She knew the boy was the only thing standing between her and a life sentence.
— She’s going to come back for him, — Arthur whispered, the realization chilling him.
— We have officers at the hospital around the clock, — Vance assured him. — She won’t get near him. If she shows her face, we’ll have her.
But Arthur didn’t feel safe. He felt it in his gut—she wasn’t just running to hide. She was waiting. She was watching.
Evelyn was indeed watching. Sitting in a crowded bus station, she clutched her ticket. Two women nearby were looking at a news report on their phone.
— They say the boy is in critical condition, but he’s going to make it.
— Yeah, that security guard is a hero. Can you imagine? What kind of person does that to a kid?
