When Benjamin arrived on the doorstep of Samuel Martin’s brownstone almost an hour later, he couldn’t find the strength to knock on the door. He stared at the polished, carved wood, unable to look at his reflection in the glass. Benjamin raised his hand to the door, ready to knock.

He couldn’t make himself do it.

Slowly, he turned and sat down on the steps, looking out at the street.

How could he tell this man his son had died? His youngest, a bright kid with a promising future. He’d barely begun high school. Now lying dead in a warehouse, shot by some unknown killer. Benjamin had promised he’d find them both, promised they’d return safe. And now he was here with neither of them. Only with the news of death, the report of his failure.

He took a deep breath, trying to find some calm, some center, some light. There was nothing but a crushing emptiness.

Benjamin forced himself to get up and face the door. Numb, hardly thinking about what he was doing, he knocked.

And waited.

Alone, silent, half-hoping Samuel would never come to the door.

The door finally did open, and Benjamin found himself looking into the face of the man whose children he’d failed. A man with no idea he was about to receive the worst news of his life.

“Come in,” Samuel said, ushering Benjamin inside.

Benjamin sat on the burgundy couch, and Samuel took a chair to sit across from him. The living room was darker than it had been before, the sun outside obscured by clouds. The modern glass chandelier above cast warm light across the space.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Samuel asked.

“No, thank you.”

Samuel seemed on the edge of his seat, tense with anticipation and discomfort. He probably guessed that Benjamin had figured out he’d been lying about his sons’ return.

Benjamin stared at the transparent table between them, trying to think of the right thing to say. But there was no right thing, other than the hard truth.

“Mr. Martin, I… I don’t know how to tell you this. And I—I’m so sorry.” Benjamin paused to collect himself. He looked up and met Samuel’s eyes. “Your son Noah is dead.”

A hollow silence filled the room. Samuel stared at Benjamin, then looked away.

Benjamin tried to say something, but nothing came out.

He finally mustered the strength to speak. “He was shot. I don’t know who the killer was. I wish… I wish I did.”

Samuel gazed out through the window, unmoving.

“I’m sorry. I tried to… I tried to find them. I tried. But I couldn’t.”

Benjamin took a shaky breath. “I can’t continue this investigation. There was a threat attached to the body. If I go on, I could be putting Ezra in more danger.”

Samuel looked back at Benjamin, desperation in his voice. “No. Please. You have to find who did this.”

“Even if there were no threat, I have nowhere to go. I’ve chased all my leads as far as I can. I have… guesses, but no solid evidence, nothing I can convict anyone with, no trace I can follow to find Ezra. I’m sorry.”

Samuel stared at Benjamin, looking like he’d been betrayed. He shook his head and looked back out the window. “They asked for a ransom.”

“What? When?”

“A letter showed up on my doorstep around one o’clock.” Samuel took a paper from the table between them and handed it to Benjamin. “Demanding three million dollars in exchange for the safe return of my boys. Three million is everything I have in savings.”

Benjamin looked over the letter. It was written in the same nondescript handwriting as the threat at the warehouse. At the top of the page was a triangle containing three dots in a triangular formation, drawn in red.

After the demand for three million dollars was a line that caught Benjamin’s attention.

in addition, you must provide the names, addresses, and information of all your colleagues

Benjamin pointed it out. “What does this mean?”

Samuel stared at the words, uncomfortable. “It’s talking about my coworkers at Bluestone Investment Bank. They probably want to use it to commit some kind of financial crime.”

Benjamin looked back at the letter. It ended by stating a meeting place where Samuel would find the boys and leave the ransom, the tenth floor of a building at an address in Long Island City.

show up by 6:30 tonight or never see them again

Them. The letter had been written before Noah had been killed, and there was no indication that there was any plan at the time of writing to kill him. Noah had been shot less than two hours after the letter’s arrival. Something had prompted the murder within that short time.

“Do you have the money?” Benjamin asked.

“I can pay the money,” Samuel replied. “But I can’t give the information. I can’t betray my friends like that. I don’t know what kind of danger they could get involved in if I did. What should I do?”

“I don’t know.”

“You have to help me. We have to get my son back.”

“There’s nothing I can do. I’m sorry.”

Benjamin stood up. He found it hard to look Samuel in the eye. “If you want to save Ezra, pay the ransom.”

“If we go to this address and find him, whoever did this will be close by. We can leave the ransom, wait for them to come out and take it, then arrest them. Right?”

“It’s not that easy. I think your sons may have been taken by a collective, not one person. We can’t stop them. And if it is just one person, I doubt they would come out into the open like that. Whatever the case, I can’t be involved in this case any longer. Noah was killed because of me. I’m sorry, but I can’t have any more blood on my hands.”

Benjamin walked to the door and opened it. He took one last look at Samuel, who sat immobile, watching him leave with pain in his eyes.

He wished he could do more. But he’d done enough harm already. And there was nothing left for him to pursue.

Benjamin stepped out of the brownstone and closed the door behind him.

As he walked down the steps, something caught his eye. A glint of red.

He reached the bottom of the steps and turned. Something metal lay in the soil of a potted shrub next to the steps up to the door.

Benjamin approached and picked it up. It was a metallic red ring.

A heavy feeling in his heart, he pocketed the ring and walked away from the brownstone.

He looked up at the gray sky as he walked, which passed in and out of view through the branches of the trees above. It began to rain, barely.

By the time he descended into the subway station, the light sprinkle had turned into a shower, a rolling blanket of gray clouds darkening the sky and the streets below.

Benjamin unlocked the door to his apartment and stepped inside.

He stood in the empty living room. Everything was quiet. Rain pattered on the windows, blurring the view of the streets outside.

Benjamin hung his dark green jacket, soaked by the rain, by the door. He walked through the kitchen and dining room into his bedroom. A gray terrier lay curled up inside a cage next to the bed; her ears perked up as Benjamin entered. He opened the cage, and the little dog scampered out.

Benjamin sat on the edge of his bed and stared out the window. He listened to the rain.

He’d failed. He’d gone rogue, investigated a case without help or approval from his department, all because he thought he could solve it alone. And he’d been close. He’d gotten somewhere, started to unravel the complicated web of crime and lies behind the kidnapping.

But in the end, it meant nothing. Noah had ended up dead.

Tears began to well in his eyes as he gazed out at the storm.

Bitter anger burned inside, lashed by sorrow, tinged with regret. If he hadn’t investigated, the kidnapper wouldn’t have killed Noah as a warning. If he hadn’t thought he could solve the case alone, Noah would still be alive.

And now, there was nothing Benjamin could do. It was over. He didn’t know how he could show up to work again with the secret of his failure weighing him down. A child’s blood was on his hands.

And Noah had been a friend of Benjamin’s niece, too. How was he supposed to tell her what had happened? How he’d failed, how he’d been forced to give up the case? And how was he supposed to tell Nia that he’d been wrong, that he couldn’t save the boys, that he’d lied about it being a regular case, that he’d gone solo and paid the price?

He heard the apartment door open. Lucy, the gray terrier, ran into the living room to see the newcomers.

Aniyah greeted Lucy enthusiastically, and Nia told her to take off her wet jacket and shoes before she went any farther. Benjamin heard footsteps approaching the bedroom.

In the reflection of the window, Benjamin saw Nia stop in the doorway. “Is something wrong?”

He took a deep breath and tried to say something, but the words couldn’t make a way out.

Nia shut the door, came over, and sat next to Benjamin on the edge of the bed. They sat in silence, staring out the window, listening to the rain and Aniyah’s muffled laughter as she played with Lucy in the living room.

“Something’s gone wrong with the case, hasn’t it?” Nia said. “You should’ve told me what was going on. I don’t even know where you’ve been the whole day.”

Benjamin bowed his head and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

They sat in silence for another long moment. Finally, Benjamin mustered the strength to speak again.

“A boy died. His name was Noah. I tried to save him and his brother. And I—couldn’t. I couldn’t.” Benjamin grimaced, fists clenching. “I took on the case alone. I thought I could solve it myself, without help from the department. I thought it would be faster. I thought… I thought I was the only one who could do it. But I’m not.”

Nia took his hand. “You’re not alone, Ben. I can help. We can get people from your department involved. We can set things right.”

“You don’t understand. It’s over. Noah’s dead. I—I can’t—I can’t fix things, I can’t find his brother, I can’t solve this case. And I don’t know how I can live with that.”

Neither spoke for several minutes. The rain grew louder, and Benjamin watched the droplets pepper and slide down the glass.

Nia rested her hand on his leg, and felt something. “What’s that?”

“What?”

She reached into his pocket and pulled out a metallic red ring. “This.”

“It’s nothing, it’s just…” Benjamin gazed at it for a moment. “Just a ring.”

A ring. That was it. A red ring.

He’d picked it up outside Samuel’s brownstone without thinking much about why it was there. He’d been too preoccupied with his own failure and the shock of Noah’s death to ask questions.

But as Nia held the ring up, as he looked at it with a clearer mind, the final piece clicked into place.

Benjamin stood up, looking out the window. “That’s it,” he said, barely out loud.

“What?” Nia stood up to join him.

“That’s it,” Benjamin repeated, his mind racing. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For showing me the piece I’d overlooked.” He couldn’t help a small smile coming to his face. “I think you just helped me figure out this case.”

“Just like that?”

“Well, we’ll see if I’m right.”

Nia shook her head. “You’d better not try to finish this alone.”

“Believe me, I won’t.” He looked over at her. “What do you say we end this case together?”

She smiled. “Sounds good.” Her expression quickly turned apprehensive. “But… just the two of us?”

“No,” Benjamin said. “I’ve got a few more people in mind. We’ll get everyone we need, figure out a plan, and if all goes well, get back home in time for dinner.” He looked back out the window. “It’s about time we finished this game.”