Deven shook her head again, her voice strengthened with a renewed vigor. “She’s out of town and won’t be back until next week. She wouldn’t have come home without telling me.”

Officer Wise looked back to his partner, an obvious nonverbal cue for her to pick up the conversation. “Your sister was nonresponsive in her home this morning,” Officer McKinney said then, her tone patient. “She was already gone by the time paramedics arrived.”

“That’s not true.”

“Ms. Reynolds, I’m so sorry, but Kennedy has died.”

Deven’s body stilled before the first few involuntary convulsions caused her muscles to ache. Now it was something different she felt, consuming her body like flames. She blinked and shook her head again, willing those damned words out of her ears.

“What the hell is wrong with you people?” she said, trying her best to keep a leash on her temper even as angry tears touched her eyes. “How could you say something like that? Why would you say that?”

“We’re going to need you to come with us to identify Kennedy’s body.” Officer McKinney’s voice was calm, sickeningly so. A direct contradiction to her words. It felt like a vacuum sucking the air out of the room. Out of her lungs. Deven braced herself against the wall on legs that felt like putty. They were wrong. So, so wrong. The tears were coming now, hot and heavy acidic drops burning her cheeks crimson.

“Is this some kind of joke to you? My sister doesn’t take drugs. Fuck you and get the hell out of my house.”

“Ms. Reynolds—”

“Get out!” Deven was screaming now, and she didn’t give a damn how deranged she sounded. That’s what she got for being so curious. She should’ve let that damn doorbell ring until the batteries gave out. Officer Wise and Officer Too-Damn-Nice could’ve knocked and knocked until their knuckles bled. Then Deven could have put the covers over her head and avoided waking from a dream to a nightmare.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Justin padded into the foyer; a pair of basketball shorts slung low on his hips. Sleep clouded his face, but his eyes immediately widened at the sight of the uniforms. His arm circled Deven’s waist. She welcomed the support, however territorial, and leaned into him.

“I’m Officer Wise and this is Officer McKinney,” the man introduced with a nod in his partner’s direction. “Are you Ms. Reynolds’s husband?”

“Friend.” Justin’s tone was clipped as if he took offense to the mistake. If Deven hadn’t been so enthralled with the situation, she would have had an attitude about his shitty correction. “What’s this about?” he asked.