“The doctor said she’s stable.”

Denise opened a thin manila folder clipped to the board.

“She’s resting,” Denise said.

“But we have a few things to sort out before you go back in there.”

“You wrote on your intake form that your sister threw a cast iron skillet at her,” Denise said.

Her voice held no warmth and no hesitation.

She didn’t look away from me.

“I want you to take me through the five minutes before you left that house,” Denise said.