Page 69 of Snowman

"Always." I hung up.

I shoved the phone into my pocket and headed upstairs to the old filing cabinet. The plan was simple, or at least it felt simple when Erik and I planned it out last night.

We wanted to write a letter from a witness, someone who'd supposedly seen Isak creeping around the victims.The Snowman. It was airtight, every detail thought through. And it had to be because this wasn't just about blame, it was about Bree.

Ever since I saw him with her, I wanted to tear him apart. Not just him, Joe, Laura, the whole fucking mess they dragged her into. Erik had kept me from going on a rampage, though. He said revenge without control wasn't revenge—it was suicide. So, we went with the plan instead.

Once Isak was out of the picture, I'd take Bree to the mansion. That place was safe, bought with the money Erik and I foundafter our father died. Buried under the floorboards in the stable, it was enough to keep us set for life.

Lena wanted nothing to do with it. She hated the money, hated the memories tied to it, but Erik and I weren't so sentimental. We used it to build something better, or at least something different. We buried the past along with our father, taking new names to make sure no one connected us.

The cult, the Family, it all died with him.

But the past doesn't let go so easily. I could still feel the weight of it, the scars my father left behind. The beatings. The madness in his eyes, when he talked about"the plan"like it was some divine prophecy. Most of the cult left when it fell apart, running as far away as they could. Some left the country, but only some stayed behind.

We all swore an oath:the Family was dead, and no one would ever speak of it again.If the day came, we'd help each other, no questions asked. But some things don't stay buried, no matter how deep you dig the hole.

Joe always tried to be like him, imitating him. But he was never clever enough to pull it off. And honestly, I was relieved. Someone like Joe with that kind of edge would've been dangerous. Easier to deal with him. Easily silenced, easily forgotten.

I pushed those thoughts away. What mattered now was beginning over. Bree deserved peace. Hell, so did I.

I pulled on my gloves and unfolded a clean sheet of paper. My hand hesitated, but soon I began to write, word after word, leaving nothing that could point back to me.

"On the last Friday of November, I was walking my dog when I saw something in the snow. Footprints, a man's, size 45. I'm sure because my boots are four sizes smaller. The tracks were fresh, made by someone in thick-soled boots.

Later, I saw him at the station, during questioning. When I realized he was the one asking the questions, I walked out. I didn't trust him.

Then I saw him again, watching the house of the new family in town. He wasn't hiding it, either, just staring at the girls inside. I followed him. He went into the woods, and I saw him building a snowman. Don't ask me why I didn't stay long enough to find out.

But one thing sticks in my head: he carries a white silk scarf in his pocket. Every time I see him, he's sniffing it like it's something dear to him. He has long hair and blue eyes. You know who he is. He's the new detective, and I think you've suspected him for a while now."

I signed nothing. No name, no trace. At the top, I wroteFor the Chief of Police.

As I pushed the letter into a plastic bag, Lena walked in.

Perfect timing.

I handed out the bag to her, and she took it with a doubtful smile.

"Take this to the station," I said. "Use the blue door by the morgue on the left side. No cameras there. Drop it in the mailbox, but don't leave any fingerprints. Take the letter out of the bag first. Keep the bag. Got it?"

"Crystal," she said but paused at the door. "Any sign of Laura?"

"No," I said. "I don't think she made it through the night."

"Yeah," Lena said softly. "You've changed, you know. Since Bree. If she makes you better, maybe… maybe let this go. Live your life."

"I'm trying," I said.

A lump rose in my throat, surprising me. How long had it been since I hugged her? Years? Maybe longer. Before I could second-guess myself, I stepped forward and opened my arms. Lena froze for a second, then let me pull her into a quick, awkward hug.

"See?" I said, letting her go with a faint smile. "We can do normal."

She laughed nervously. "You're creeping me out."

"Fair enough," I said, raising my hands.

She laughed, shaking her head as she opened the door. The cold wind swept inside, biting at my face.

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