Not, Are you okay?
Not, I love my son.
Not, I swear I did not do this.
Before you listen to anyone.
Control always announces itself as concern when it is running out of room.
Emily handed the phone to Detective Ward.
The detective photographed the screen, logged the time, and asked Emily not to respond.
At 1:04 p.m., Detective Ward returned with an update.
Diane had agreed to come in for questioning.
Voluntarily, at first.
Paul had driven her.
Emily pictured the two of them in their family SUV, Diane in the passenger seat with her purse in her lap, Paul gripping the wheel, both of them saying whatever people say when a life cannot be repaired by conversation.
At 1:31 p.m., Detective Ward received another call in the hallway.
Emily could not hear the words, only the detective’s tone.
It changed.
Not louder.
Flatter.
When she came back in, her face had hardened.
