“With Derek.”
“With Derek.”
“And coming back after the class would have ended.”
“Yes.”
Mara glanced toward the laptop. “There’s another fact.”
Rachel waited.
“His car.”
Mara clicked into a video folder.
The first clip opened on grainy security footage. The time stamp glowed in one corner. The camera angle showed the studio entrance, a wedge of parking lot, and the sidewalk stretching past the neighboring businesses.
A gray SUV rolled into frame.
Rachel’s heartbeat stumbled.
“That’s his.”
“I assumed so.”
The passenger door opened.
Audrey stepped out wearing her dance clothes. She closed the door and stood on the sidewalk. Even without audio, Rachel recognized the way her daughter hugged her arms around herself when she was cold.
Or afraid.
Audrey did not walk toward the studio.
Instead she leaned down toward the passenger window.
Thirty seconds passed.
A minute.
Rachel could see only Audrey’s back.
