Chapter 22: No Siren

Brynn did not run.

She stood very straight in the kitchen, with the detective's paper held out in front of her.

"Brynn Hartwell," the detective said. "You're under arrest for felony assault by poisoning, and for filing a false police report."

"Do I have to wear the handcuffs?"

"Yes."

"They'll show up on camera."

"They will," the detective said. "Turn around, please."

She turned.

The officer snapped the cuffs on her thin wrists, one and then the other.

My mother made a small broken noise.

"Aunt Laurel," Brynn said, without looking back. "Don't cry. You'll make it about you."

My mother pressed her lips shut.

It was the first plain true thing I had heard Brynn say in that house.

My mother stepped forward anyway.

She put her hand on the back of Brynn's shoulder, just for a second.

"I'll find you a lawyer," she said. "And I will be in the courtroom."

Her voice shook.

"But I will also tell them the truth, Brynn. All of it."

Brynn flinched at the word.

"I know you will," she said.

They took her out through the front hall, past the family photos.

One showed the two of us in matching sundresses.

On the porch, under the yellow bulb, she stopped.

The officers let her.

She looked at me over her shoulder.

"The pen," she said. "I was going to put it back in your bag at the hospital. So it looked like you'd forgotten it."

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