Julia knew Dad’s schedule.
She knew my habits.
She knew Hannah’s family secret.
She had once possessed a key to Dad’s house.
And she had spent twelve years believing grief gave her authority over how the rest of us lived.
The Confrontation
I drove to Julia’s apartment before fear could weaken my resolve.
She answered in exercise clothes.
The white sneakers sat beside the entrance.
I held up the camera image.
Julia’s face lost all color.
“You followed Hannah.”
She stepped backward.
“Maya, you don’t understand.”
“Then explain.”
