The Silent Mirror and the Lies That Broke My Family
“She risked her life to help me find the truth,” I said. “I am not leaving her.”
“If you go in, you only recon,” Vance said. “Do not engage unless you have no choice. I will meet you at the perimeter.”
“Just get here, Marcus,” I said.
I ended the call and tossed the phone onto the passenger seat.
The road to the southern inlet was narrow, bordered by dark marshes and skeletal trees.
I reached into the glove compartment and pulled out my old service pistol.
I checked the magazine, slid it back into the grip, and chambered a round.
The metallic slide clicked into place, cold and solid.
I turned off my headlights as I neared the access road.
The silhouette of the boatyard appeared through the fog.
Two large, corrugated iron buildings sat on the edge of the water.
A single patrol car was parked near the dock, its engine idling.
I parked my truck behind a row of overgrown pines and got out.
The wind off the water was freezing, carrying the smell of low tide.