Three feet in from the door, the off-white landline handset lay face down on the floor.

Its coiled cord had been yanked straight out from the base on the nightstand and was snagged tight around the lowest spindle of the painted bed frame.

María went down on one knee, keeping her eyes away from the bed skirt.

She didn’t touch the plastic casing, but she bent close enough to see the little rubber speaker holes resting against the rug.

The way the handset lay put it right under the edge of the mattress, where someone standing beside the bed could have kicked it loose with a shoe.