Dad was being held in a different jail from Deanna.
Both denied bail.
My phone was full of voicemails from him, swinging wildly from anger to apology.
I hadn’t listened.
“There’s something else,” Detective Torres said, pulling out another document.
“When we searched Deanna’s computer, we found searches about your mother’s death three years ago.”
My head snapped up.
“What?”
“She was researching your mother’s symptoms before her accident,” Detective Torres said. “We’ve reopened that investigation.”
The implications hit me like a truck.
Had Deanna been in our lives before she married Dad?
Had my mother’s death really been an accident?
“The DA is offering Deanna a deal,” Detective Torres continued. “If she cooperates with the investigation into your mother’s death, they’ll recommend a lighter sentence for your poisoning.”
I stood up abruptly.
I needed to move.
I needed air.
“I can’t,” I said, voice cracking. “I can’t think about that right now.”
“You don’t have to,” Detective Torres said. “Focus on getting better.”
“The hospital says your thallium levels are dropping, but you’ll need ongoing treatment.”
I was staying with Olivia’s family, who had become my sanctuary.
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