“Who sent the photo, Sophia?” I asked, staring at the glowing screen.

“Ava,” Sophia said, navigating a sharp curve. “Emily’s cousin.”

“Ava went missing two days ago,” I said. “Caleb told me she went to Boston.”

“Caleb lied to you,” Sophia said. “Ava has been hiding in the old bait shop near the marina.”

We tore down the highway, the blue dashboard lights reflecting on Sophia’s tense face.

Ten minutes later, she screeched to a halt in front of the St. Jude Crematorium.

The building was a low, gray concrete block with a single brick chimney.

A thin wisp of dark smoke was just beginning to rise into the rainy sky.

I threw my door open before the car had fully stopped.

“Daniel, wait for me!” Sophia yelled.

I ignored her and kicked the heavy steel side door of the facility.

The lock gave way with a loud metallic crack.

The air inside smelled of ozone, copper, and fuel oil.

An attendant in blue scrubs stood near a large stainless-steel furnace, his hand on the control panel.

Emily’s gurney was positioned directly in front of the open kiln door.