"For your son to be sixteen."
Angela's heart began pounding.
"Why sixteen?"
"Because that's when Marcus believed he would be old enough to understand what happened."
Before Angela could answer, headlights appeared outside.
A police cruiser stopped in front of the house.
Malik came downstairs.
Angela looked through the window.
Two officers stepped out.
And behind them stood Richard Whitmore.
The knock came hard.
Three times.
Angela opened the door.
"Can I help you?"
One officer stepped forward.
"Ma'am, we've received a complaint concerning suspicious activity at this residence."
Angela stared at Richard.
"You called them?"
Richard folded his arms.
"I reported a legitimate security concern."
Malik stepped forward.
"What security concern?"
The officer looked at him.
"We received information about unfamiliar individuals entering the property."
David Cole appeared behind Angela.
"So?"
The officer looked at him.
"Sir, I need your identification."
David handed it over.
The officer examined it.
His expression changed.
Marcus Reed stepped forward.
"Would you like mine too?"
The officer hesitated.
"Yes, sir."
Reed handed him a card.
The officer stared at it for several seconds.
Richard noticed.
"What is it?"
The officer didn't answer.
He looked at Angela.
"Are these men staying here?"
"No."
"Do you know them?"
"Yes."
"How?"
Angela took a breath.
"They served with my husband."
Richard interrupted.
"And how do we know that?"
Reed looked at him.
"You don't."
Richard stepped forward.
"This is exactly what I'm talking about."
Malik's eyes narrowed.
"Talking about what?"
"Your mother has strangers coming into the neighborhood."
David laughed quietly.
"Strangers?"
Richard ignored him.
"We have rules."
Angela shook her head.
"HOA rules don't give you authority over who visits my home."
Richard's face reddened.
The younger officer stepped between them.
"Everyone needs to calm down."
Then he looked at Reed again.
"Sir, may I speak with you privately?"
Reed nodded.
They moved several feet away.
The officer whispered something.
Reed answered.
The officer nodded.
Then he returned the identification.
"Everything appears fine."
Richard stared at him.
"What?"
"No violation."
Richard's mouth opened.
"But—"
"No violation," the officer repeated.
The cruiser left.
Richard remained on the sidewalk.
Malik watched him.
For the first time, there was something different in his expression.
Not anger.
Uncertainty.
Richard turned and walked away.
Inside, David closed the door.
Angela looked at Reed.
"Who are you really?"
Reed didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he looked at Malik.
"Your father trusted us."
"Why?"
"Because he knew someday someone might come looking for something he left behind."
Malik frowned.
"What?"
Reed glanced at David.
David opened the black case.
Beneath the folded flag was a small key.
Malik stared at it.
"What does that open?"
Reed smiled sadly.
"We don't know yet."
The key had no markings.
For three days, they searched through old photographs and documents.
Nothing.
Then Malik noticed something.
A number written on the back of an old photograph.
"17-04-09."
Reed looked at it.
"That's not a date."
"What is it?"
"Could be a locker."
They drove to an old veterans' facility on the edge of Atlanta.
The building was nearly empty.
An elderly administrator recognized Marcus Johnson's name.
"You were waiting for him?"
Reed nodded.
"We were waiting for his son."
The administrator led them downstairs.
Rows of metal lockers lined the wall.
Locker 17.
The key fit.
Inside was a sealed metal box.
Malik's hands shook.
"What is this?"
Reed opened it.