At home, i didn’t even close the front door properly before Jynelle started dragging out our emergency glitter markers and a crime scene length of twine. She didn’t ask questions. Didn’t let me change out of my blouse that smelled like anxiety and expired lavender deodorant. She just pointed at the blank wall beside our fridge and said, “I need a fresh canvas. You need closure. Let’s build a theory.”
I dropped my purse by the couch like a corpse and blinked at her. “What theory?”
She whipped around so fast, a marker flew from behind her ear and hit me in the thigh. “The Ryan Theory, babe. This is a full-blown case now. You said she hugged him.”
I dragged myself into the kitchen, pulled a warm energy drink from the fridge, and downed it like it was communion wine. “Yes. She did. From beh
