Chapter 91 The Evidence Bag

• The cellar exhaled decay like a cocktail of mildew and something far worse that clawed at the back of my throat. McKenzie's torch beam carved through the darkness, illuminating what remained of my worst fears.
• "Christ almighty," he breathed, crouching beside the skeletal remains. His latex gloves caught the light as he carefully lifted away a strip of rotting fabric.
• The world tilted sideways. Those delicate finger bones, that familiar gingham pattern clinging to ribs like a shroud—I knew before my mind could process the horror.