Exiting LinkedIn, Morgan scrolled down the rest of the page. The next link took her to the Black Harbor Police Department’s Facebook. A gallery published four months ago showed Hudson dressed in a black suit, shaking the hand of the police chief as he received a plaque with his name on it. She zoomed in: RYAN HUDSON—INVESTIGATOR. The post above the gallery read: On Monday, August 17, the Black Harbor Police Department recognized four promotions. Congratulations to Inv. Wyatt, Inv. Hudson, Sgt. Kepler, and Lt. Draves.

The more Morgan surfed the internet, the more Hudson’s legitimacy was confirmed, from mentions of his exemplary officer awards—six in the past six years—his volunteering at the local animal shelter, and his testimony in court regarding an investigation he’d conducted into a woman making her daughter drink drain cleaner. She clicked on the article. The trial had only happened a month ago.

Sheehan was convicted of physical abuse to a child when she forced her 13-year-old daughter to drink drain cleaner. Black Harbor Investigator Ryan Hudson testified in court on Thursday, stating: “A physical abuse charge is not enough. Sheehan has a history of manipulating others toward her own violent ends. This fact alone should prevent Sheehan from ever stepping foot outside a prison again. She should be charged with attempted homicide and no chance of parole. She’s a villain.” Investigator Hudson went on to show photographs of the victim’s esophagus …

Morgan closed the article.

So, Hudson was who he said he was. And he helped people. Her nerves prickled. What would he see her as, though? A victim who deserved justice, or a villain who lured others to violent ends?

A pop-up appeared in the top right corner of her screen.

Hello, Morgan Mori.

It was Bennett Reynolds. Morgan bit the studs in her bottom lip, focusing on the sharp pain it sent through her jaw and down her neck. She would have to face the music sooner or later.

Hello, Bennett Reynolds, she replied.

14 HUDSON

On the nightstand, the face of his alarm clock glowed like a moon. Hudson squinted. It was 9:15. They’d passed out for almost an hour.