s started i

Benton, the

razy woman who would kill he

silent diner, they were like shouts. Each o

o had killed her own child. The demeaning labor, scrubbing floors until my hands bled. The beatings in the dark, the constant fear.

her eyes blazing

of water and threw it sq

The little boy

a poorly written play, th

walk

ed up her son, her eyes red-rimme

friend... she tried to hurt ou

, pointed a chubby finger at me.

rmed over, placing himself between me a

ssed, his voice a low, furious growl. "He' s j

oked on it. My ears filled with a rushi

es shining with pride. "Thank you, Eva," he' d said to me in front of all our fri

tematically, ruth

the diner. My old colleagues. People I had

eping fiancée, their frightened child, and me-the cr

at Eva

s really let

d to be the best investiga

r own son. What

ask of cold fury and

ice dangerously low. "Don' t mak

ss him. That'

an to work the room, playing the part of the gracious, w

started to protest again.

t David' s eyes on me for a moment. I saw him notice the faint, discolored

And then he

ll convenience store. I bought incense, paper money for burn

her cab to

repared for

grass was overgrown with weeds. T

Leo' s headstone, scrawled in

LLER MOM. DE

a physical pain, as if the words were ca

" I ch

ernails scraped against the stone, breaking and bleeding, but the paint wouldn' t bud

the faded photo of Leo' s smiling face, my body convulsing with sobs I could no longer c

plastering my thin clothes to my skin, but I didn't feel it. I just

of the day on my hands and knees, pulling every weed. I went to a stonema

place, I carefully set the

ure, my hand resting on

y voice raw. "Whoever did this to you.

to the house. I was soaked, exhaus

hadn' t changed. His hair was slightly disheve

manded, his voice laced with anger and

ithout a word, head

ng with my hand on the newel post. "Today is th

ce wen

edges. My legs gave out,