Trudy stared at Dolores Sanchez, her mouth open. “You believe us?” she asked, hardly believing what she was hearing.
“Yeah. I think so,” said Sanchez, her dark eyes hard, a frown creasing her forehead.
Alice avoided eye contact by looking down at the table.
“What’s with your friend?” asked Sanchez, nodding at Alice.
“b***h has been lying to us since we left Fairview,” said Bruce, his bitterness clear in his tone.
“What do you mean?”
Bruce reached underneath the table, grabbed the cloth bag containing his sister’s black book, and threw it on the table.
“What’s this?” asked Sanchez, her eyebrows arching in surprise.
“My sisters diary,” said Bruce. He glanced at Trudy, who rolled her eyes and sighed.
Sanchez frowned. “Withholding important evidence from the police in the course of an
