At 11:47 PM on a cold February night, a knock at the door brought a feeling that something was terribly wrong. Outside stood my sister Rachel, in tears, alongside a detective.
My brother Danny had been missing for three weeks. Before they spoke, I already knew the truth.
“We found your brother’s body,” the detective said.
The world collapsed. Danny—full of life, with plans for the future—was gone. They said he died from exposure, found in a wooded area miles away.
But there was more.
He was discovered near a hunting cabin owned by Marcus Webb—his former business partner. The same man Danny had sued for stealing thousands, the same man who had once threatened him in court:
“You’ve ruined my life. And I’ll never forget it.”