Nicholas’s POV
They come for me at 6:14 a.m. on a Thursday.
I’m making coffee—black, no sugar, the way I’ve taken it since Sera left—when three hard knocks shake the front door. Not polite. Not tentative. The kind of knocking that says they already know you’re inside and they’re not asking permission.
I open the door in yesterday’s T-shirt and sweatpants.
Two uniformed officers and a plainclothes detective in a cheap gray suit stand on the landing. The detective holds up a badge. I don’t bother reading the name. I already know this is about the playground.
“Nicholas?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re under arrest for attempted murder in the first degree and child endangerment. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right
