I Couldn’t Remember Hearing Anyone Come Back Upstairs

hung up he said, “Nat? You did good.”

I almost threw up when he said that. Not because it was wrong. Because if he’d been fifteen minutes later, there might not have been a “good” to do.

At 3:00 a.m. Detective Pruitt came back in.

He shut the door and sat down.

“Howard Finch has priors,” he said.

Mom’s fingers dug into my knee.

“What kind?” Dad asked.

“Fraud.continue reading …