“The ticket,” he interjected, stepping forward. “You signed it on purpose, knowing you could later point out your unique handwriting. Then you placed the same handwriting on the map, hoping I would connect it to the ticket after you instructed Larsen to plant it.” Liam let out a humorless laugh. “You even told me it was you. From the start. The canvas…like a drop of red blood on a white canvas—it’s incredibly difficult to hide in plain sight. You told me that over and over again.
