“I was working late because I was trying to find the person who killed my brother.”
Silence.
His brother.
I had never known Ben had a brother.
Or perhaps—
I suddenly remembered the photograph I had once found in an old box.
Two boys standing beside their mother.
Ben and another boy.
I had asked him about it.
He had taken the photograph from my hand.
“Someone I used to know.”
I had never questioned him again.
Now I understood why.
Ben’s voice trembled.
“My brother died twelve years ago.”
“How?”
“Overdose.”
I stared at him.
“But it wasn’t an overdose.”
He looked at Mrs. Carter.
“She made it look like one.”
Mrs. Carter’s face finally changed.
Emily squeezed Arnold’s hand.
And Ben reached for mine.
