“Do not let her leave.”

left for my parents’ house in West Linn, Cormac had slipped a digital audio recorder into his leather messenger bag. He brought it to every Butler family dinner. He had never used it. But he always brought it.

Now, standing in the ruined aftermath of the cake smash, the blue frosting drying like concrete on my skin, I understood why.

Callie, my best continue reading …