“Bess? You awake?” A voice at her door whispers in the dark. “Okay if I come in?”
Bessie rubs her eyes before turning on the light on her bedside table. “Sure.”
Soon, Leila perches on Bessie’s quilt. It’s one in the morning. “You won’t believe what I got to do today!”
“Eat ten Choc-O-Nut bars at once?” Bessie sits up, yawning.
“I wish,” her sister replies. “But it’s better than that. But you can’t let the old farts know.”
“So, what’s this big accomplishment anyways then?”
Leila takes something from a notebook she has in her lap. “I learned how to take fingerprints. I’ve even got the shooter’s cousin’s prints for comparison already.” She pulls out some copy paper where fingerprints are clearly displayed in black ink and labeled in Lee’s neat script: “Belonging to Pauline Mafuso”.
Bes
