37
My mother and Trent both stared at me like I had absolutely lost my mind. I sipped my now-tepid tea and tried to appear calmer than I felt.
“What do you mean you aren’t going to leave it alone?” It was Trent who found his voice first.
“I must be close to figuring out something for them to be so worried. It’s a little too convenient that my duplex caught on fire right after I started asking questions about the Marion Street fire. This break-in and this note,” I held it up in the air, “prove that someone has something big to hide.”
“Yes, and they won’t mind hurting you to keep it hidden,” my mother weighed in. “This is evidence that should be turned over to the police, but then you need to back off and let them do their jobs.”
“I’m not sure she should even give them the note,” Trent
