During Family Breakfast, My Sister Hurled a Hot Frying Pan at My Daughter

One drop of tea had dried into a brown ring beside the salt shaker.

I rubbed the stain away with a dry napkin until the pine was perfectly clean.

My phone lit up on the counter with a text from Detective Mitchell’s office number.

I went over and picked it up.

The text asked whether I could come down to the station at nine the next morning to go over some recovered media files.

I typed back a one-word answer and put the phone down on the counter.