At thirty-eight, he owned Morrison Development, the most successful residential construction company in Cedar Falls, a name associated with clean lines, solid foundations, and contracts that closed exactly as promised.
People trusted Daniel Morrison.
They also knew better than to cross him.
What no one knew was that the house where everything would unravel was the one place he believed was untouchable, the one structure he had designed himself down to the inch, the one space he assumed was safe.
It was a quiet Tuesday evening in October when that illusion shattered.
Catherine, his wife of ten years, had just left for the grocery store with her usual handwritten list folded neatly into her purse.
Daniel was in his home office reviewing blueprints for a new subdivision when seven-year-old Emma appeared silently in the doorway.
