Not all cases start with clues. Some start with a heartbeat. It was early morning — the kind of soft golden light that makes the whole house feel like it’s holding its breath. I padded down the hallway, and that’s when I saw him. Deano. Sitting by the closet. Quiet. But not sad — thoughtful. We haven’t always understood each other. He’s the sunshine-orange optimist, and I’m the trenchcoat, moonlight type. But lately, something’s been changing between us. A comfort. A knowing