“I saw the video,” she said.
I nodded once. “Yeah.”
Silence settled heavily between us.
Margaret stepped farther inside, her eyes never leaving mine.
“I watched it five times.”
I swallowed hard.
“I kept thinking maybe I missed something,” she whispered. “Maybe I was seeing it wrong.”
“You weren’t.”
Her gaze sharpened instantly.
“Then why didn’t you tell the truth?”
The question hit hard enough to make me physically flinch.
“I did.”
“No.” Her jaw tightened. “You confessed.”
My throat burned.
“I said what Cathy asked me to say.”
Margaret stared at me.
“And afterward?”
“I told my mom the truth.”
The words sounded hollow even now.
“What happened?”
A humorless breath escaped me.
“She looked at me like I was lying. She told me I was lying.”
Something flickered across Margaret’s face then.
Confusion maybe.
Pain.
“Why didn’t you come to us?” she asked quietly.
I looked down at my hands.
“I tried.”
Silence.
“The day after the funeral, I came to your house.”
