Chapter 19 · The Dead List

"You're going to let me burn it." Kyle's voice came through the phone speaker, calm as morning coffee. "Or Lyla dies in the next four minutes."

Mark's hand froze on the evidence box. The storage unit door was still open behind him, daylight cutting a hard line across the concrete floor. Inside the box sat six months of work—timestamped footage, call logs, the pattern that proved Kyle West wasn't just killing. He was looping. Resetting. Coming back.

The only proof Mark Chen wasn't insane.

The only way to clear his name.

"Where is she?" Mark said.

"Parking garage. Fourth floor. Silver Civic, back left corner. She's got maybe three minutes of air left in that trunk. Maybe four if she stops panicking." Kyle laughed, low and easy. "But you know Lyla. She doesn't do calm."

Mark's pulse spiked. He looked at Emma, standing two feet away near the unit's roll-down door. Her face had gone white.

"He's lying," Emma said. "He wants the files gone. He'll say anything."

"Check the feed," Kyle said. "I sent you a photo."

Mark's phone buzzed.