I burst into the kitchen, the screen door slamming against the wall. Elvira stood at the sink washing dishes. Uncle John didn’t believe in newfangled technology like actual dishwashers. In fact, I was surprised he had a stove rather than making Elvira use the old stone hearth that took up most of an inside wall in the kitchen.
She looked over her shoulder as I stood there, clenching my fists and trembling in fury.
“You b***h. What did you do?” I shook my blood-covered hand in her face before wiping my palm on my trousers.
And she smiled, the most smug, self-satisfied, mean-spirited smile I had ever seen. “So now you know what you had for dinner.”
I stared at her, aghast.
“What’s going on?” Micajah barreled into the kitchen, breathing heavily.
I couldn’t tell him just yet, I had to kn
