Another thud from Ellen’s end.
“Whoops! Dropped the phone. Are you still there?”
“Yeah,” said Ian. “You wanna let us in on it, Gabe?”
“It’s a confession,” said Gabe after a moment.
“To what? Murder? Oh, I hope it’s murder,” said Ellen.
“Not exactly.”
“Just. Read. It,” said Ian through gritted teeth. He was about ready to pull the paper from Gabe’s hands and do it himself. “Please.”
Gabe took a breath and then launched into it hurriedly, stumbling over the words at times, trying to get it over as fast as he could.
“March Second.
“I know I wasn’t happy, but I never wanted this. Maybe if I write it all down, it will make more sense, and I can shake this guilt.
“First, I’m putting it down here: I didn’t kill him. I’m not a murderer, I’m not a killer, I’m not guilty of those things, I
