by“Ms. Rangel couldn’t have been murdered! Who would murder a librarian during a puppet show with kids everywhere?” The overhead light hurt my eyes. Jagged bands of color crisscrossed Detective Massey’s face and shirt as he sat opposite me at the interrogation room table. I blinked, wishing my eyesight would clear. Compared to other ocular migraines, my vision was only marginally distorted, like viewing the world through a cracked phone screen or damaged computer touch screen. At least I wasn’t having tunnel vision.
I fought to focus on the detective instead of the visual distortions. “Are these questions even necessary? Ms. Rangel had some kind of seizure.” I tried not to choke on the words, which felt like an impossible nightmare scenario. How could my boss have died in front of me duri
