There it was.

Not rage.

Not a family argument gone wrong.

A clear, explicit, recorded motive: they were trying to silence me because I had discovered their theft, and my testimony to the rest of the family would destroy them.

The third file was the alley.

I will not describe it, except for the words, because the words are what convict.

As my father left me on the pavement, he hesitated.

“What if someone finds her?” he asked.