Within ten minutes, they were both half asleep.
I smiled watching them.
For a man who could be so cold in business, Zay was a completely different person with his son.
The house had gone quiet, so I turned on the television.
But the doorbell rang.
I grabbed my phone and checked the surveillance app.
The camera showed a delivery driver walking away from the front door.
A small package sat on the porch.
“Just a delivery,” I said out loud, even though Zay wasn’t really listening.
I walked to the door and opened it.
The box wasn’t big.
Plain brown cardboard.
No return label.
I picked it up and stepped inside, closing the door behind me.
The tape peeled easily.
When I opened the box…
Something inside shifted.
My stomach dropped.
Inside was a small doll.
Handmade.
Dark cloth wrapped tightly around its body.
Pins pushed through the fabric.
And tied around the neck was a small piece of bone and string.
“What is that?” Zay’s voice came from behind me.
I turned.
He was standing there now.
I held the doll up slightly.
“I don’t know.”
His face changed immediately.
“Who left it?” he asked again, this time sharper.
