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it never existed? But why?”

“That’s the thing, though, right? It was a murder in a small part of New York back when serial killers ran rampant across the United States. I want to believe that someone was trying to hide something. Still, I’ve also got the feeling that the Crossley family might’ve just been another forgotten killing. It didn’t even make the news beyond this small-time newspaper,” Aaron added.

“It doesn’t add up,” I cocked a brow, leaning over to make sure the date read 1982. “I saw a man at the Dench house delivering a letter. There’s no way he was able to pull this off back in the 80s and still be as young as he is.”

“We can’t put it past someone trying to be a copy-cat killer,” Aaron shrugged.

“But he’s also targeting Spencer’s family. That’s why Gwen’s here.”

Lauren, no doubt, already knew this by listening in to the conversation through her intercom. Aaron, however, spun around with a look of confusion on his face.

“And with that, you’ve got to think about how this guy figured out that Jane Dench and Spencer Williamson had anything to do with the Crossley family to begin with. We’ve got everything working in our favor, and you’ve only just managed to scrape a tiny shred of information on them—”

“Tiny shred? This is only the beginning,” Aaron cut me off. “Jack, I see what you’re getting at, but this thing goes deep. And it’s really not looking good for those poor people if what you’re saying is true.”

“What do you mean?” Gwen asked.

“These murders have been happening for centuries. After getting the names of the parents, I managed to find out more about them. Orlando Crossley’s line went nowhere… he was just an unlucky bystander in a twisted act. Jill, however, was the target of whoever entered their home that night.”

Aaron paused, typing away at the keyboard until a family tree sprung up on his screen. It was made by him but seemingly checked out with dates of birth and death all across the graph.

“It seems whoever was unlucky enough to enter Jill’s family line, they somewhere met their end at the hands of some twisted person. Unlike Jane, I was able to track the rest of the line pretty easily.”

“Where does it lead back to?” I asked.

I knew that Aaron wanted to explain it all, go in-depth into how he figured it out, who he found, and what happened to them across the ages, but that could be done later. For now, it was best to stick to the facts and get to the point.

“All the way back to the Salem Witch Trials, if you can believe. Further still, to our forefathers back in England, in a small town called Bury Saint Edmunds. It looks like whoever’s going after this family is taking them out a family at a time, and it’s got something to do with witchcraft.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. Why leave anyone alive if you’re trying to eradicate a line?” Gwen cocked a brow, scratching her head.

“They were just kids, right? It looks like it’s the same for every line moving forward. The children always made it through the ordeal while the parents suffered an untimely fate. The kids were never older than a year or so, either,” Aaron pointed to the screen to demonstrate what he was saying.

“That just reaffirms my point then. Whoever’s doing this is definitely not nearing 400 years old. So, who the hell is it?”

The question was rhetorical, for the most part, but I could feel the agitation growing. These cases were always the worst. They had no reason to exist and brought only suffering to the poor souls that lived through them.

What reason would some fat slob dressed in a party store mailman outfit have to hurt this family in the modern age? Witches were disproven years before, and with it, so too should the hunts have stopped. Yet, those ignorant fools continued fighting some nonsensical fight because of the lineage and family line?

It made my blood boil.

“That’s what we’re going to find out,” Aaron said. “We always do, Jack, and we’re not going to stop now.”

“But this is just torture for torture’s sake,” I said. “Whoever’s doing this could’ve ended it three centuries ago by getting rid of the entire family, right? It’s like they’re leaving a lineage to make future generations suffer.”

“Sometimes there’s no reasoning behind the actions of bad people,” Gwen cut in, taking my hand in hers. She could no doubt sense my mounting anger and building tension. “That’s why there are people like us in the world, looking to make it a better place.”

“You’re not wrong there,” I squeezed her hand before letting it go. “But what if we missed our only opportunity by letting that driver slip away?”

“We’ll keep fighting,” Aaron replied before Gwen could say anything. “Because that’s what we do. And we don’t let anything get in our way.”

Chapter 8

Jack

“Can you believe it? All the way back to some bullshit that happened nearly 400 years ago,” I said, walking into my office. Gwen followed behind, no doubt just as confused as me.

“Stranger things have happened, Jack. We all know that,” Gwen replied, collapsing into a visitor’s chair. “Cults are common enough. And there’s no denying the lengths of depravity they’d go to, to fulfill some dark needs.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I shook my head. “They’re ruining two family’s lives for no other reason than their own delusions. And you want to know what’s worse? We’ve got nothing to go by, and if they end up succeeding, there are kids next in line for a future generation of suffering.”

“We live in a strange world. But this begs so many questions,” Gwen put her feet onto my desk, one foot over the other. Her dark leather boots pristine

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