The Littlest Prosecutor novel · Chapter 11 of 24

Chapter 11: Show Them Your Hands

Nobody moved on the porch.

The flowers in Daddy's hand were yellow roses.

Faye's dress was yellow too, with long sleeves and a gold cuff on her right wrist.

She had matched the flowers on purpose.

"Dad said Sunday," said Uncle Desmond.

"We missed her," said Faye, and her voice wobbled in just the right place. "Is that a crime?"

She looked past him and found me in the hall.

Her whole face lit up.

"There's my angel!"

She stepped over the doorstep and crouched with her arms out, and the plate of cookies tipped in her hand.

Behind me, I could feel all five uncles watching.

I could feel Grandpa's cane tapping on the floor, slow, one tap at a time.

I walked toward her.

I did not run.

When I was two steps away, I stopped.

"Come here, sweetie," Faye said.

Her smile did not move, but her hand came out and closed around my wrist.

Her fingers were tight.

Only I could feel how tight.

"We're going to have such a nice weekend," she whispered, so that it sounded like a kiss. "I made your favorite."

My words went stuck in my throat.

I looked at the gold cuff on her wrist.

I looked at the little place where the cuff did not quite reach.

A thin brown line showed there, three lines, side by side.

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