Valerie Came Home From Deployment to Find Her Twelve-Year-Old Daughter in Intensive Care
Her phone showed Abigail’s call at 9:41 p.m., three minutes before Brenda’s car left the driveway.
“You’re going to need a witness for that phone log,” Elena said.
The hole punch clicked again.
I put the police report behind the fourth tab and left a blank sheet at the back.
Elena opened the thermos and poured the last of the chicken soup into a motel cup.
She set it by my elbow and didn’t tell me to drink it.
“You keep looking at that intake form,” she said.