Arthur stared at Julian's cufflink in his palm. The gift meant to welcome a future son-in-law had come from my dead hand. He turned it over twice, checking the engraving he already knew.
My mother made a choking sound and reached for the suture kit on the side tray.
"I can fix it. I can put her back together."
She took a needle and thread. Her hands shook hard enough for the needle to strike the tray. The first attempt missed the incision, and the second tore my skin. The city's top medical examiner could not complete one stitch.
"Stop it!" Sarah pulled her away. Crying, she emptied another evidence bag at Arthur's feet. It held the contents of the single drawer in my apartment. "You want to fix her? Look at what you broke!"
A worn notebook opened on the tiles to my father's blood pre
