29
I put the paper back down with shaking hands. Grace sifts through papers behind me, unaware of the thoughts whipping through my head. I want to steal the paper so I can look at it later for the accusations, but William will noticed that it’s gone. I can’t ask Grace to copy it down, not when the accusations against her are clearly listed. I reread it four times before putting it in the useless pile. I begin sorting through the rest of the pile, but I can’t focus on any of the scrawled letters. I could be standing in the same room as my sister’s murderer. I force myself to take a deep breath. What am I thinking? Grace isn’t the murderer. I’ve grown up with her. Surely I would have noticed the violent streak in her. Unless she’s trained herself to be just as good at hiding her emotions a
- Writer
