The hooded figure brought one name to Daniel’s mind: Caleb Morris. Emma had dated Caleb for two years, then ended the relationship four months before her accident. She had called him controlling but refused to explain further. “It’s finished, Dad. But I can handle him,” she had said. Daniel had wanted to believe her. Now the words felt like a warning he had ignored.
He opened the box of Emma’s belongings in storage. Beneath notebooks and cables, he found her old phone. Daniel read Caleb’s final messages. Some begged for another chance. Others demanded answers. One said, “You can’t shut me out forever.” Another, sent two weeks before Emma died, read, “I’ll find a way to make you listen.”
Daniel gripped the phone. He searched online and learned Caleb had recently returned to town. At the cemetery, the lilies were gone, but a strip of earth beside the headstone had been loosened. Daniel pushed aside the grass. Someone had dug there and pressed the soil back with a shoe. He called Sylvia, who stared at the disturbed patch. “We should contact the police, just in case there are grave robbers about,” she said. Daniel looked at Emma’s gravestone and wondered why Caleb was still hanging around.