“I am fine,” I said, though my hands were still cold.

“I want to stay here for a moment.”

“Of course,” Julian said. “I will go prepare the files.”

“I will see you tomorrow, Evelyn.”

He walked down the aisle, his footsteps fading as he exited the church.

Pastor Whitcomb gave me a reassuring nod before retreating to the vestry to lock up the communion silver.

I was left alone in the quiet nave.

The shadows were lengthening, swallowing the altar in darkness.

I walked to the front pew and sat down, my knees suddenly weak.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone again.

The screen lit up with a text message from an unknown number.

I opened it.

It was a picture of the historic Caldwell Estate, taken from the driveway.

The headlights of a car were visible in the corner of the frame.

Below the image, a short message appeared.

*He knows you were at the chapel.*

My heart did a slow, heavy roll in my chest.

I stood up, the wooden pew creaking loudly in the empty church.