I locked my wife in the pantry under the stairs

“No.”

“Did you know about the passage?”

“No.”

“Did you know your mother was dangerous?”

That one stops me.

Because the easy answer is no.

The true answer is harder.

“I knew she hurt people,” I say. “I just kept calling it sadness.”

Emily closes her eyes.

A tear slips down her cheek.

I grip the bedrail but do not move closer.

“I gave my statement,” I say. “All continue reading …