Face To Face
They drove to Edgar’s house, a sagging structure with peeling paint and clutter spilling across the porch. The door creaked open to reveal a man who looked worn down, unshaven, his clothes rumpled from neglect. Edgar’s tired eyes met Frank’s, and when he saw the footage playing on the phone, he didn’t argue. He didn’t run. He simply stepped aside, silent and resigned, as if he’d expected this moment all along.
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