A knock echoed through the Knight family’s door.
When Kirsten saw the police standing outside, her face turned pale with fear.
Had they already discovered that she had ordered someone to run Tricia down?
But to her surprise, they weren’t here for her.
“We need to see Phil.”
Phil stepped forward, immediately recognizing the man in uniform.
“Officer Blake, it’s been a long time.”
This was the same officer who had handled his mother’s case all those years ago.
Officer Blake gave him a curt nod. “Mr. Knight, it has been a while. I’m here today because I need your help with something.”
Phil frowned slightly. “What is it?”
Without a word, Officer Blake handed him a photograph.
In the image, a snowy field was speckled with blood. Etched into the snow was a string of numbers: 755143.
The moment his eyes landed on those digits, Phil froze.
Officer Blake caught the shift in his expression. “Mr. Knight, do you recognize this number?”
Phil hesitated before looking back at him, suspicion flickering in his gaze.
“This is the password for all of Tricia’s personal belongings. Why don’t you just ask her directly?”
Officer Blake’s lips pressed into a thin line.
He wanted to tell Phil the truth. But Tricia had left a final request, and he had no choice but to keep the truth from him.
“She’s… not in a position to answer my questions right now,” he said carefully. “But this number is linked to a major case. Please, Mr. Knight, tell me what 755143 really means.”
A memory surfaced in Phil’s mind—
A moment from long ago, when he had asked Tricia the very same question.
“What does 755143 mean?”
She grinned at him, mischief dancing in her eyes.
“Look at the keypad. The nine-square grid. Type out your name and ‘I love you.’ PLKILY—it matches 755143. Clever, right? Only you and I will ever understand it.”
“Mr. Knight?” Officer Blake’s voice pulled him back to the present. “What does it mean?”
Phil lowered his gaze. His throat tightened as he forced out the words.
“It means… Phil, I love you.”
Silence stretched between them.
Then, Officer Blake let out a quiet breath and tucked the photo away.
“Thank you for your time, Mr. Knight. Goodbye.”
As he turned to leave, Phil couldn’t stop himself from calling after him.
“How… is she?”
Officer Blake paused at the threshold. His fingers twitched as he wiped the corner of his eye.
“She’s doing well.”
Then he strode away without looking back.
Phil stood motionless, unease creeping into his chest.
Officer Blake was hiding something. He was certain of it.
But what?
The officer’s visit stirred old memories, reminding him that he hadn’t visited his mother’s grave in a long time.
So, that afternoon, he bought a bouquet of fresh flowers and drove to Glenwood Cemetery.
When he arrived at her tombstone, his steps halted.
There, resting against the cold marble, was a wilted bouquet of lisianthus.
His breath caught.
He knew exactly who had placed it there.
His family always brought chrysanthemums. The only person he had ever told about his mother’s favorite flower was Tricia.
To confirm his suspicion, he went to the cemetery office and requested the latest surveillance footage.
The moment Tricia appeared on the screen, he knew.
She had been there.
Just as he was about to ask the security guard to turn it off, the footage continued—
And then, in the background, a large truck barreled straight toward her.
His stomach lurched.
“Wait,” he ordered sharply, gripping the security guard’s mouse to pause the video.
He watched as Tricia dodged the first hit.
But the truck didn’t stop.
It reversed—aiming to finish the job.
Phil’s hands curled into fists.
This wasn’t an accident. This was a premeditated attempt to kill her.
His eyes flicked to the date in the footage.
It was the same day he had thrown her out of the Knight family villa.
That same day, his sister had tried to burn Tricia alive with gasoline.
His pulse pounded in his ears.
Could this truck… could this attempted murder also be connected to his sister?
