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The foyer is relatively quiet, with only a few employees moving through the space. One man is mopping the corner, while a blonde woman sits behind an expansive desk as she talks on the phone.

When they see Dahlia, both stop and stare, eyes wide, almost as if they’re unsure what’s happening. Looking at it objectively, I can’t blame them. Whoever framed her did a good job of making her a villain. But there’s a part of me that’s angry they can’t see through that.

According to Sawyer, she worked here for years before this happened. Shouldn’t they have known she was innocent? That something else was going on?

I’ve known her for a matter of days, and I know that the woman standing in front of me would never steal drugs, let alone take a life.

As we follow June around the desk and down a back hall toward an office, I get a lay of the lower floor just in case we need a quick exit. Unfortunately, it looks like our closest exit is right out the front door.

Here’s hoping nothing goes wrong.

June opens the door and takes a seat behind her desk. Dahlia settles into a chair across from her, while I close the door behind us—right in the face of her security man. He glares at me through the glass, then turns and puts his back to the door.

“Is it necessary for you to have private security?” I question. “I wasn’t aware running a retirement community was such a dangerous business.”

June stares back at me, clearly unamused. “Ever since the incident, our residents have requested the extra security.” June turns the focus of her full attention on Dahlia. “I always liked you, Dahlia, which is the only reason I’m willing to hear you out. You were a sweet girl, a hard worker, and seemed to love the residents.”

“I did—I do,” Dahlia stammers. “June, I don’t know what happened, but I promise you, I never would have hurt anyone. And stealing medicine? I’ve never taken anything like that in my life!”

“The detective investigating the case says your system was overloaded with it when you were found.”

“Someone had to have given it to me, June. I promise, I never would have taken it.” A tear runs down Dahlia’s cheek, and I cross my arms to keep from clenching my fists in response to her pain.

Seeing her hurting, though, it’s doing something to me.

“I have to admit I’ve been questioning whether or not there’s more to it, too,” she says. “After Mr. Prescott died, his lawyer threatened a lawsuit over negligence. He claimed that we allowed an emotionally compromised woman on staff when you should have been on leave until you spoke to a therapist about the loss of your grandfather.”

“A therapist?” she chokes out. “It’s grief, yes, but why would I need to speak to a therapist?”

She shakes her head. “It was a lawsuit we likely could have won, except the lawyer is a shark known for making something out of nothing. Besides that, he had Mr. Prescott’s entire estate at his back. He agreed to drop the lawsuit so long as I hired additional security until the investigation into his death and the missing medication is complete.”

“Additional security? Why would he care about that if Mr. Prescott was no longer here?”

“Mr. Prescott was a very influential resident here at Pine Meadow. His attorney made it very clear that it was in my best interest to agree. Otherwise, the other residents wouldn’t feel safe.”

“So, he threatened you,” I reply.

“He made very valid points.”

AKA, he threatened you.

“What can you tell me about the night Mr. Prescott died?”

“It was during a dance we were hosting. The residents were all in the main hall, as was a majority of the staff. Myself included.”

“Did you see Dahlia?”

She nods. “I saw her bring Mrs. Marooney in, then she slipped out. That was the last time I saw her. Mr. Prescott’s body was discovered fifteen minutes later by the janitor, who was going through rooms and emptying trash.”

“Fifteen minutes isn’t a lot of time for one person to steal meds from a locked supply closet, drug someone, wait for them to die, then slip out of the building undetected,” I say.

“I know,” she replies curtly. “Which is why I assumed there was more to the story.”

“Security cameras?”

She clenches her jaw. “We have cameras on every single exit to this building, as well as in the parking lot, every hole on the golf course, and nearly every inch of this property. They showed nothing. It was like Dahlia just disappeared into thin air.”

“Did you have them analyzed to see if the feed was tampered with?”