A Stranger Handed Me a Blue Box at Church and Said, “You’ll Need This Tonight”—I Wish I’d Opened It Sooner

If they knew she was alive, they’d use you to draw her out. Your grief had to be real so they wouldn’t suspect.”

She handed me Blair’s letter, written a year ago in case she didn’t survive. I read through tears about Amber’s betrayal, about Rowan’s manipulation, about evidence hidden under the wedding tree.

“I love you,” Blair had written. “I’ve loved you every day of our forty years. I’m sorry I won’t be there to grow old with you.

Be strong. Be smart. And remember—you’ve always been the toughest person I know.”

Andrea’s phone lit with messages.

“They’re coordinating a manhunt. Sheriff Brennan’s leading it. We need to move fast.” She showed me video files from the USB—recordings of meetings where Amber sat silent while Rowan and the sheriff discussed “permanent solutions” to the “Grant property problem,” where Navaro himself outlined timelines for my removal.

“We’re going back,” Andrea said. “We set a trap, draw them all out at once. FBI SWAT will stage nearby and move on my signal.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Be the bait.

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