The rain had slowed to a steady, freezing drizzle.

Up ahead, the blue and red lights of police cruisers flickered against the wet pavement.

They had already arrived.

Vance parked the SUV fifty yards away from the terminal entrance.

We got out of the car, the cold wind hitting my face immediately.

The air was sharp and smelled of jet fuel and damp asphalt.

I saw my father standing near the edge of the hangar, his hands raised in the air.

He was wearing a soiled grey sweatshirt, his hair soaked and plastered to his forehead.

Two police officers had their weapons drawn, shouting commands over the wind.

Richard’s eyes scanned the parking lot until they locked onto me.

“Claire!” he shouted, his voice cracking with anger and desperation. “Tell them! Tell them it was all Vanessa’s idea!”

I stood beside Gabriel, watching my father.

He looked small under the harsh security lights.

The powerful patriarch who had controlled my life for decades was gone.

He was replaced by a desperate, wet man in a parking lot.

“It’s over, Richard,” I said, though the wind carried my voice away.