It swung open to reveal Caleb Morris—pale, gaunt, and wearing grease-stained work clothes. He looked exhausted, eyes sunken under heavy dark circles.Caleb blinked at him. “Mr… Mr. Harper?”
Daniel thrust his phone into Caleb’s face, displaying the photograph of the note: I carried you with me today. I wish you could have seen it. “Why are you leaving these at Emma’s grave?” Daniel demanded. “Why are you digging holes around her headstone?” Caleb stared at the image on the screen, stepping back. “I… I didn’t write that. Mr. Harper, I didn’t write that note.”