Chapter 2: The Last SupperThe Man Who Never Breathed

The Blackwood Estate security system is state-of-the-art. 4K cameras, motion sensors, night vision. We pay thousands a year in HOA fees for the illusion of safety.

Paradoxically, that expensive surveillance provided the police with a front-row seat to a horror show.

Detective Miller, a man who looked like he had been carved out of granite and cigarette smoke, sat in my living room later that day. He played the footage on his tablet, his face impassive.

"Mr. Sterling attended a gala last night," Miller said. "The Class of 2008 Reunion. It was held at the Club House, just inside the north gate."

I knew the event. Arthur Sterling was the guest of honor. He wasn't just a math teacher; he was an institution. He was the "Olympiad King." Parents fought tooth and nail to get their sons into his advanced calculus classes. He had a wall of awards in his office and a reputation that was bulletproof.

According to the witness statements Miller recited, Sterling had been in high spirits that night. He was holding court, surrounded by adoring former students who were now tech CEOs, doctors, and lawyers. He was drinking aged scotch, his face flushed with the intoxication of power and adoration.

"He was laughing," Miller said, scrolling through his notes. "Witnesses say he was particularly chatty with the Cole brothers. Do you know them?"

"The Coles?" I nodded. "They live two houses down. Sebastian and Julian."

"Right. Sterling was making jokes. He told Sebastian, 'Look at you boys now. You've made it. You can even afford such a handsome nurse for your brother.'"

The "handsome nurse." Elias.

Everyone knew Elias.

Detective Miller tapped the screen. "Sterling declined a ride home. He said he wanted to walk off the scotch. He said, 'I'm not that old yet.' He walked into the fog at 11:15 PM."

That was the last time Arthur Sterling was seen alive by a human being.

Five minutes later, the cameras caught him again. Or what was left of him.