I Called Three Investigators to My Nephew’s Birthday Party

the corner instead. “That woman interviewing me was threatened.”

Denise said, “The interviewer was a man named Scott Doyle. Forty-eight. Out of Schaumburg.”

Nobody laughed.

I had the dumbest thought right then: the corn was burning. One of the foil trays by the grill had gone from sweet to black-edged while all this was happening.

Small things stick.

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