She said she was washing the black cast iron skillet in soapy water.

“She’s sticking to the story she told at the hospital,” I said.

“She wants them to think it slipped.”

“Keep reading,” Mark said.

“She built on her story quite a bit.”

I read the next part of the investigator’s notes.

My lungs tightened against my ribs.

Vanessa said I’d been standing in the kitchen the whole time.