The air in the garage was thick enough to taste, a familiar cocktail of motor oil, sawdust, and defeat. Under the single bare bulb, Liam sat hunched on a worn stool by his workbench. At 40, the man he was had been eroded by grief and circumstance, leaving a lean, almost gaunt frame that seemed too large for his slumped posture. His shaggy brown hair, shot through with premature grey at the temples, fell into his deep-set...

It had been two weeks since they watched the video. Two weeks since Rachel collapsed sobbing into Jason’s arms, her body slick with sweat and guilt and something darker—something neither of them had a name for yet. Now, the silence in the house pulsed with soundless echoes of it. Each night, they played the video again. Sometimes together, side by side on the living room floor, trembling and stroking each other in time wi...

The house was quiet. Too quiet. Outside, a slow-moving thunderstorm grumbled its way across the sky, flashes of heat lightning slicing through the blinds and illuminating the kitchen in soft, broken light. Rain hadn’t started yet—but the pressure was building. The kind of tension that made the air feel heavier, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath. Jason stood by the sink in nothing but his boxers, a half-...