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datatime: 2022-12-04 19:33:04 Author:yiQLLDhl

"Vincent. This morning."

"You're the one who ran," I say under my breath.

"He's still at the police station," Paul says, almost to himself. "The lights are off."

"You lied to them."

"I'm the one who called the police too," he says.

"He's still at the police station," Paul says, almost to himself. "The lights are off."

"Damn it." Gil brings the Saab to a halt and gets out. "Paul"

I can hear it in his voice, the accusation sneaking in. Everything returns to the moment I pushed Taft.

Paul knocks again, then pulls a ring of keys from his pocket and cradles one into the slot. Putting a shoulder into the wood, he sweeps the door forward. Hinges squeal.

"You're the one who ran," I say under my breath.

"It's the only other place he could've hidden it."

Paul knocks again, then pulls a ring of keys from his pocket and cradles one into the slot. Putting a shoulder into the wood, he sweeps the door forward. Hinges squeal.

"Threatening you with the letter?"

The wind hisses around the door as he opens it, muffling his words. I can see Paul mouth something to us, pointing at the house. He begins hiking toward it in the snow.

"Threatening you with the letter?"

Paul knocks again, then pulls a ring of keys from his pocket and cradles one into the slot. Putting a shoulder into the wood, he sweeps the door forward. Hinges squeal.

"Damn it." Gil brings the Saab to a halt and gets out. "Paul"

Gil doesn't even hear us. Shaken by the sight of Taft's house, he lightens pressure on the brakes, letting us roll in neutral, prepared to go back. Just as his foot begins to engage the clutch, though, Paul yanks the door handle and stumbles out onto the curb.

"Paul" I get out of the car, trying to keep my voice at a whisper.

"You lied to them."

The wind hisses around the door as he opens it, muffling his words. I can see Paul mouth something to us, pointing at the house. He begins hiking toward it in the snow.

"Jesus, Paul," I say. "How do even you know the blueprint is here?"

The wind hisses around the door as he opens it, muffling his words. I can see Paul mouth something to us, pointing at the house. He begins hiking toward it in the snow.

Gil doesn't even hear us. Shaken by the sight of Taft's house, he lightens pressure on the brakes, letting us roll in neutral, prepared to go back. Just as his foot begins to engage the clutch, though, Paul yanks the door handle and stumbles out onto the curb.

I'm waiting for Gil to react, but he keeps his eyes on the road. Staring at the back of Paul's head, I have the strange sensation of looking at myself from behind, of being inside my father's car again.

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