He had forgotten how I’d built it.
“I’m going to the hospital.”
I turned away.
And for the first time that night, I knew one thing with absolute certainty.
I believed my mother.
The Fireplace That Didn’t Exist
By noon, doctors had confirmed that Corinne had suffered a fractured collarbone, a severe concussion, and deep contusions.
While she slept, Detective Reese Dalton was assigned to the case.
I returned to Mom’s house to collect clothes for her hospital stay.
The kitchen was wrecked.
A smashed pie tin lay on the linoleum.
Apple filling streaked the cabinet doors.
Then I entered the living room.
There, beside a yellow evidence marker, lay the weapon Nolan claimed my mother had used against him.
A heavy black cast-iron fireplace poker.
I stared at it.
Then at the room.
Then back at the poker.
Something was wrong.
It took only seconds for my mind to identify it.
My mother’s house didn’t have a fireplace.
