Detective Sarah Martinez stared at the blood-soaked carpet, wondering how many secrets this pristine suburban home had managed to hide. The body sprawled across the marble kitchen counter belonged to Richard Thompson, CEO of a prominent local pharmaceutical company. His wife Caroline stood trembling in the doorway, mascara streaking down her face as she clutched their daughter's stuffed rabbit. The murder weapon, a crystal decanter from their wedding fifteen years ago, lay shattered beside Richard's head like broken promises. Through the bay window, Sarah watched neighbors gather on perfectly manicured lawns, whispering theories about what happened inside number forty-two.