They drove into a quieter, older part of town. Tall houses, high fences. Helen stopped in front of one with a bright blue door.
Daniel parked nearby, grabbed his camera, and hid.
Helen and Emma walked up the path.
The door opened before they knocked.
Someone had been waiting.
Through his lens, Daniel saw movement inside—and when a figure stepped forward, something inside him froze.
Daniel stayed several cars behind as Helen drove deeper into the older neighborhood.
His camera recorded every turn. His pulse pounded as the SUV stopped in front of a worn two-story house wrapped in ivy.
The blue door stood out sharply.
He parked, grabbed his long lens, and moved into cover.
Helen stepped out, helped Emma from the car. The girl looked nervous, clutching her dress.
They reached the door.
It opened instantly.
Daniel zoomed in—just a glimpse: a man’s arm, polished shoes.
Then it shut.
Every instinct told him to break in—but experience told him otherwise.
Evidence first.
He circled the house and found a small basement window.
He looked inside.
Bright lights. A white backdrop. Five children lined up—including Emma. They wore strange outfits.
A well-dressed man adjusted a camera. A woman arranged props.