Deven couldn’t move if she tried so, she just stood in place engrossed in the visceral images of every worst-case scenario that played like a movie on loop in her mind. Had something happened to her mother? Had there been an accident? A robbery? She shut her eyes against the intrusive thoughts as she struggled to let loose the few staggering breaths strangled in her throat.

“Ms. Reynolds?”

It was the man that spoke this time, Officer Wise, his gentle voice floating through Deven’s subconscious like a melody. Just that quick, the morbid thoughts dissipated, and she opened her eyes again. Both officers were watching with such concern that she felt like she may crumble right then and there. And still, she had no idea what the hell was going on.

“Sorry.” Deven nodded her acknowledgement. “What is it?”

“Would you like to sit down?” Officer McKinney offered again.

Deven shook her head. Never mind the fact that her feet felt like cinder blocks. “No. What’s the news? Is it my mother?”

“No ma’am.” Officer McKinney paused, took a laborious breath, then, “Your sister, Kennedy, died of what appears to be an accidental drug overdose.”

Shock was an understatement. More like numb. Deven hadn’t realized she was clenching her jaw until the tension had her head throbbing. She swayed, immediately throwing up her hands to ward off the officer who reached in her direction.

“Don’t touch me,” she whispered. Something warm bled into her chest before seeping up to bubble out of her lips. Laughter. Was that her laughing? Deven tossed her head back, the movement causing even more pain to rupture her skull. Still, she couldn’t stop laughing at the sick and twisted cops who had traveled all the way to Mt. Laurel just to tell a joke.

Neither officer seemed surprised by her reaction and the way they just waited and watched prompted Deven to purse her lips together; a weak attempt to stifle the last few remnants of her chuckle. “Sorry,” she said again, a restrained smile toying at the corners of her lips. “It’s just, that is crazy. Kennedy doesn’t do drugs.”

“A woman was picked up at 918 Parkwood Avenue.” Officer Wise launched into his explanation like he hadn’t heard Deven’s words. “Apartment B2. Is that your sister’s address?”

Deven’s heart skipped a beat. Sure, that was her address, but . . .

“I just talked to Kennedy a few days ago,” she assured them, desperately relieved at the memory. “She’s out of town.” It was a mistake. A huge mistake. She couldn’t fault the police for their ignorance.

“How is Puerto Plata?”

Kennedy’s voice was light, the sound of waves harmonious with her merriment. “Beautiful, Sis. Next time you should come. I’m sure you could use a vacation.”

“How long are you staying?”

“I’ll be back in another week.”