CHAPTER 1 — THE GIRL THEY CALLED A THIEF

The crowd had already decided who was guilty.

That was the easiest thing about the truth.

A frightened little girl standing alone in the street was easy to blame.

A powerful man owning the most popular bakery in town was easy to believe.

And Frank Miller knew exactly how to use that.

“Look at her!” Frank shouted, standing outside his bakery with his arms crossed. “She walked in, grabbed the bread, and ran.”

The crowd murmured.

Some people looked at the girl with pity.

Others looked at her with suspicion.

The little girl, Emma, held the loaf of bread tightly against her chest.

Her small fingers were shaking.

“I didn’t steal it,” she whispered.

But her voice was too quiet.

Frank smiled.

A cruel, confident smile.

“Of course you didn’t,” he said sarcastically. “Nobody ever admits what they did.”

A few people shook their heads.

“Kids these days…”

“Someone needs to teach her a lesson.”

Emma looked around desperately.

She wasn’t looking for someone to save her.

She was looking for someone who understood.

Someone who knew why she had risked everything to enter that bakery.

Because inside that building was the answer she had been searching for.

Her sister.

The only family she had left.

Three days earlier, Emma’s older sister Lily had disappeared.

The police called it a runaway case.

They said teenagers sometimes left home.

But Emma knew better.

Lily would never leave her alone.

Not without saying goodbye.

Not without leaving a note.

Not without taking the small stuffed rabbit Emma gave her when they were children.

Then Emma found something hidden under Lily’s bed.

A piece of paper.

Only five words were written:

“Frank Miller knows where I am.”

That was why Emma came to the bakery.

Not for bread.

Not because she was hungry.

Because she was searching for her sister.

Suddenly, a voice cut through the crowd.

“Everyone step back.”

The crowd turned.

A woman in a dark navy jacket walked forward.

Calm.

Focused.

Inspector Olivia Reed.

Frank’s smile disappeared slightly.

“Officer, this is just a simple theft.”

Olivia looked at Emma.

Then at the bakery.

Then back at Frank.

“No,” she said quietly.

“This is not about bread.”

Frank’s face tightened.

“And what exactly do you think it’s about?”

Olivia reached into her pocket.

She pulled out a photograph.

A photograph of Lily.

Frank froze.

Because he recognized her.

And Emma saw it.

The fear in his eyes.

For the first time…

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Frank Miller looked guilty.

TO BE CONTINUED…