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Ty had stayed with me all day long, only leaving to go home once I was ready for bed. And he returned bright and early the next morning, so he could continue to dote on me. Despite myinsistence that he didn’t need to waste his time while I was just sitting around, Ty refused to abandon me. And he didn’t complain.

Of course, after our fun-filled day of me practicing recording a podcast and us playing video games together, I felt compelled to get back to work in some capacity. Ever determined to get to the bottom of the story, I had gone through my notes and talked with Ty about my frustrations the next day. He came up with an excellent idea to do something like a tip line. Obviously, my goal wasn’t to interfere with an ongoing police investigation. But instead of asking directly for information about Annie’s death, I could run with the same story I’d been telling everyone else I’d interviewed so far.

Since Annie Sanders had been such an influential person in the community, there was the likelihood she could have impacted the lives of people nobody knew anything about, because there wasn’t an official charitable organization that had been donated to. It was possible that by finding a way to connect with some of those people instead of organizations and digging deeper into an even more personal side to Annie, I might be able to uncover something that could give me a new lead.

Fortunately, we were able to put together a campaign rather quickly, and we even built a website with our downtime—something I thought might come in handy if I chose to take his advice and consider podcast news instead of continuing my career in legacy media. And now that we’d given my foot a couple of days to rest, I was hoping to be able to get some information that would help propel this case forward.

But I was nervous.

Because I’d convinced Ty that our next stop needed to be with Annie’s parents. I was desperately hoping they’d be willing to speak to me. After pressing the doorbell, I turned my gaze in Ty’s direction. He seemed completely composed.

“I’m nervous,” I whispered.

“You’ll be fine. I’ve seen you do this so many times already. You’re amazing, Alana. Just be yourself; you have nothing to worry about.”

Although I recognized he was referring to my ability to do my job, hearing Ty call me amazing meant everything to me. And somehow, that helped me to relax just a bit.

The Sanders family owned an exquisite mansion on a sprawling estate, so when the door opened and it wasn’t a butler on the other side, I was a bit awestruck. Being such a popular family, I recognized Annie’s brother immediately. His eyes shifted between Ty and me, his stare a touch intimidating and slightly annoyed.

Wanting to quell any tension, I immediately spoke. “Hello, Reed. My name is Alana, and this is Ty. I apologize for bothering you at home, but?—”

“This is my parents’ home,” he corrected me, his tone firm.

“Yes. Right. Sorry. I’m an independent journalist, and I’ve been working on a…” My voice trailed off as the door began to close.

“Reed, who is that?”

The door stopped moving at the question that came from somewhere deeper in the house. Reed didn’t respond, and a moment later, the door opened wider. Annie’s mom had filled my vision.

“Hello,” she greeted me.

I smiled at her. “Hello, Mrs. Sanders. My name is Alana, and this is Ty.”

She offered a nod. “How can I help you?”

“She’s a reporter,” Reed spat. “I bet you can’t possibly imagine why she’s here, can you?”

Reed knew this was about his sister, and it was clear, without even knowing any specifics as to why I was here, that he wasn’t interested in a single thing I had to say.

I tried to be sympathetic to it, recognizing that he’d just lost his only sibling in the most horrific manner not even a full two months ago. Focusing my attention on Mrs. Sanders, I explained, “I’m an independent journalist, and I’ve been working over the last few weeks on putting together a story on your daughter. First, let me say how truly sorry I am for your loss. I can’t imagine the pain you all must be going through. But I’m hoping I can help with that.”

“Help?”

I offered a slight nod in return. “Annie was such a bright light in this town, and I was hoping to do a legacy piece on her. She accomplished a lot in the time she was here, and I thought everyone in the community could really use something positive after such a devastating loss.”

I half expected Mrs. Sanders to slam the door in my face, especially with her son brooding behind her, but instead, she stepped back, opened the door a bit wider, and said, “Please, come in.”

“Thank you.”

Ty urged me inside ahead of him, and the two of us following Mrs. Sanders into her formal living room just off the left of the grand foyer.

We hadn’t even made it to the couches when a voice sounded behind us. “My apologies, Monica. Can I get you something?”

I spun around to see a well-dressed man standing there with an apologetic look on his face.

“Yes, Alfred. Would you please get our guests some coffee?” she asked him. Apparently, I hadn’t been wrong about there being a butler. She turned her attention in our direction and asked, “Is coffee okay?”

“That’s perfect,” I assured her, thinking it wouldn’t be wise to insult a woman like Monica Sanders in her own home. “Thank you.”

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