Chapter 29- THE NEIGHBOR WHO KEPT HIS LIGHTS OFFThe kitchen window opened onto a narrow side yard covered in frozen grass.
I helped Emma through first, then climbed after her as Grant pounded against the locked pantry door I had shoved behind us.
We ran without coats.
The nearest house belonged to Mr. Reeves, a retired accountant Grant often mocked for watching the neighborhood too carefully.
His porch remained dark when we knocked.
For one terrible second, I thought he was not home.
Then the door opened six inches.
“Come inside,” he whispered.
Mr. Reeves locked the door behind us and led us into a back room where every curtain had been closed.
On the desk sat three cardboard boxes filled with bank statements.
My maiden name was written across the top box.
I stared at him.
“How do you have these?”
“Your father gave them to me two weeks before he died.”
“My father died six years ago.”
May you like
Mr. Reeves nodded.
“He knew the Holloways were stealing from you. He just didn’t know how deep it went.”
