Jace swallowed hard. His voice steadied just enough to continue. “I was behind the club that night. I saw a man dragging her to the alley. He gave her an injection. I thought maybe he was helping her until I saw her body go limp. She was alive but barely breathing. He left her on the pavement because he thought no one was watching.”
Murmurs swept through the room. Preston felt cold dread creep through his chest.
Jace kept going. “I tried waking her. I shouted her name. I called for help but no one came to my neighborhood. People ignore calls from the streets. I waited with her until I thought she was stable. Then the police came hours later and said she was dead. They were wrong.”
Preston stepped closer until he stood right in front of the boy. “Why did you wait until today to say this.”
Jace lowered his gaze. “No one listens to a homeless kid. I tried talking to officers but they brushed me away. When I heard the funeral was today I knew I could not let them bury her if she still breathed.”
The words landed in Preston like stones. For weeks he had felt that something about the cause of death was wrong. That Talia had been taken before her time. Now the thread was pulling loose.