The search began at Julian’s estate-an architectural masterpiece of glass and stone, overlooking the city like a silent king. It was there that she found the first clue.
The dog’s collar was still in the garden, its clasp broken. No sign of a struggle, no tracks leading away. It was as if the dog had simply vanished.
Julian watched her from the patio, his hands clenched at his sides. “Do you have any leads?”
Isabelle turned the collar in her hands “Not yet. But tell me–when exactly did he go missing?”
Julian’s jaw tightened. “Three nights
ago.”
She frowned. “Specific time?”
“Around midnight.”
A chill ran down her spine. “The same night as the anniversary of your wife’s death.”
Julian’s expression darkened “That’s just a coincidence.”
Isabelle wasn’t so sure. She had
investigated too many cases to believe in coincidences.
As she walked out of the estate, she had a feeling this wasn’t just about a dog-it was about the past. And some ghosts refuse to stay buried.
