Chapter 6: Left Side

The inspector walked through the house with her tablet in both hands.

She looked at both bedrooms and wrote something down for each.

Then she stopped at the top of the stairs and looked at us.

"Mr. Hallam. Which room is yours?"

"The one at the end."

"We'll use that one," she said.

"Ms. Prentiss, I'll need to see your clothes in the closet and your toothbrush in the bathroom."

"I've been here nine hours."

"Then you have a long evening ahead of you."

So we carried it all down the hall together.

My duffel, my shoes, my chargers and a plastic bag with a toothbrush and a very old bottle of hand cream.

Silvan cleared half his closet without a word.

He moved his shirts to one side in a neat row and stood back to give me the rest.

The inspector tapped her screen.

"Same side of the bed every night, please, it's on the form. Pillows, nightstands, sleep patterns. Are you light or heavy sleepers?"

"Light," we said at once.

She looked up at the pair of us.

"That's usually a good sign," she said, and she checked a box.

She asked how we met, and Silvan told her, truthfully, that I had been his dog's nurse.

She asked what he liked about me.

He said, "She doesn't talk to be polite."

I looked at him.

He did not look at me.

She asked what I liked about him.

I could not say the first honest thing in my head, which was the bag of the right coffee on the counter.

"He's quiet," I said. "He pays attention."

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