At 3 A.M., My Brother Dragged Me Out of My Bedroom While Dad Laughed—He Had No Idea What the Smoke Detector Had Recorded

Then noticed that I had brought both keys.

The front-door key.

And the little key to the locked drawer where I kept my records.

I held them together in my palm.

For weeks, I’d carried the drawer key everywhere because I was afraid of being separated from the evidence.

Now it was simply another key.

I unlocked the front door.

Stepped inside.