“The lock was an iron padlock that takes a key,” I said.

“You can’t lock a padlock from the inside without a key in your hand.”

Clay went quiet.

“The police have the lock, Clay,” I said.

“And the doctor wrote up thumb bruises on both his arms.”

“She told me you pulled her hair,” Clay said, his tone going sharp and defensive again.

“She said you came storming through the door yelling and threw her out into the rain.”

“I haven’t set foot inside the house since eleven o’clock,” I said.