FIFTEEN
The doorbell rang. Vivian took a deep breath, then went to the door and opened it. Hannah, a sandy-haired woman who looked about five years older than Vivian was standing there. She was wearing sunglasses, a UC Berkeley sweatshirt and jeans. Two boys were standing next to her. They chased each other into Vivian’s apartment the moment the door opened.
“The police came to the house,” Hannah said. “What the f**k is going on?”
“Hi, sis,” Vivian said.
“They said you were with some woman who got murdered,” Hannah said as she stepped into the apartment and closed the door. “They said you found the body.”
Vivian nodded as Joanna flashed before her eyes.
“That must’ve been awful for you,” Hannah said.
“Yeah, it was.”
The boys were doing laps around the coffee table. Vivian tensed as
