Page 24 of In the Dark of the Past

“And my mom was part of it?”

Autumn nodded. “So was Grant. And Mitchell Carr—Eleanor’s uncle.”

I froze. “Carr? The guy who called in her disappearance when her husband was out of town?”

“The same,” Autumn confirmed. “And get this. The committee lobbied to shut down the after-school center your mom helped launch. Something about redistricting and budget reallocations.”

“She never mentioned that.” My voice was quiet. “But I remember…I remember her manic depression cycles got really bad that year. Maybe that’s why.”

Libby gave me a look full of sympathy. “She probably didn’t want you to feel like she’d failed.”

Autumn opened another folder and pulled out a sheet of handwritten notes. “And here’s where it gets really weird. This entry references a project realignment. No specifics. Just vague language about containment and community image. After that? Nothing. No more meetings.”

Containment and community image?

The words curled around something inside me, something too sharp to define.

“You think the committee could be tied to what happened to Eleanor?”

Libby looked hesitant. “It’s starting to feel like there’s something here.”

Autumn shut the book with a quiet thunk. “Your dad might’ve stumbled onto something he wasn’t supposed to, too, right? Maybe that’s all a part of what got him into trouble. And your mom? She might’ve wanted out. Depending on what was really going on there.”

Before I could respond, my phone buzzed on the table.

MARA (jewelry store neighbor): Hey, sorry to bother, but something’s wrong here. Window’s busted and there’s glass everywhere. You might want to get down here ASAP.

I was already standing.

“Everything okay?” Autumn asked.

“No.” I grabbed my bag and met her eyes. “Someone broke into my clinic.”

Libby let out a sharp breath. “What the hell?”

They both insisted on coming. We packed up the documents to revisit later and hurried out.

Chapter Ten

Finn

The second I pulled up to the clinic and saw the busted glass glittering like frost on the sidewalk, something in my chest locked up.

River stood just beyond the shattered window, her back to me, talking to Libby and Autumn. Her posture was stiff. Controlled. But I knew enough about trauma to recognize what simmered just beneath the surface. Shock, adrenaline, and about a thousand unspoken questions.

I parked haphazardly and didn’t even bother shutting the door before I crossed the street.

“You okay?” I asked the moment I reached her.

She turned slowly. When her eyes met mine, it hit me like a damn gut punch. Because behind all that strength was fear. Controlled and buried deep, but still there.

“I’ve been better,” she said, her voice hoarse.

I nodded, stepping closer but not touching her. “Anything taken?”

She shook her head. “Not that I can tell. The front window’s just...gone. Door was unlocked. My guess is that whoever did this left that way to avoid the broken glass. Nothing appears missing. I didn’t see any files disturbed.”

“Did you leave it unlocked?” She lowered her head and gave me a look that cut like a laser.