Alex replied carefully, “I can understand how you might think that, and you might not be wrong.” He paused. “The medical community does accept it as a non-criminal death, though,” he finished.
I clumsily made a few notes on the inside of the folder. They said: “Check zip codes,” “52 Postmark on Ltr,” “Hawkins M.S. in VA?” and “Where is she?” Then I set down the folder and pen, promising myself I’d re-examine my slightly incoherent notes the following day.
I looked down at the folder, picking up the pencil and slowly drawing swirling patterns in the top corner. “I’m sorry,” I added contritely, softening a bit. “It’s hard to keep unbiased when it comes to Molly. That,” I said, moving over and curling up on his arm, “is why I need your help.”
“What is that you wrote there? ‘52’?”
I yawned
