A few wispy hairs had escaped the ponytail and now danced around McKinney’s face. She used both hands to push them back. A nervous habit, Deven noted and struggled to remain patient as the officer plucked one of the folders from the top of a pile and flipped it open.

“I wish I had better news,” she started. “But I called you because the toxicology report came back. As well as the fingerprints.”

Deven held her breath. “Okay.”

“Well, first the fingerprints confirm that is indeed your sister, Kennedy.”

A week ago, the news would have sent Deven spiraling into a negating frenzy. But now with everything else she knew, well thought she knew about Kennedy, she couldn’t be so sure. “What was in the other report?” she asked, her voice monotone.

McKinney flipped the folder around to reveal the page from a lab with charts and percentages that didn’t provide any clarity. She went on to point out a few of the drugs found in the body. It didn’t even appear like the doses were egregiously high, but it was the combination of the medicine that proved lethal. Deven recognized that the names she had found on the prescription bottles were listed, indicating some trace of them had been found in her system.

“. . . that’s why it was ruled accidental,” McKinney was explaining with care. “She had also been drinking so it was like a fatal chain reaction. Unfortunately, she had liver damage, so the medicine just accumulated in her system. There is no other evidence pointing to an intentional suicide attempt.” She paused for Deven to digest the recent information. “Again, Ms. Reynolds, I am truly sorry about this.”

She seemed genuinely sympathetic. Deven could appreciate that. But still, the other nagging details plagued her thoughts. The stalker, Kennedy’s previous assault, Amber Wright, the pregnancy. More importantly, Deven didn’t care what fingerprints or clinical data, or DNA registered in their precious system. That woman, their Kennedy, was not the sister she knew. But hell, who was the sister she knew? Even her truth had been corrupted.

“Are you able to do some research for me?” Deven asked suddenly. She hadn’t even been sure she wanted to introduce this new element to the police, but now it seemed like she had no choice.

“What’s that?”

“I don’t want to get anyone in trouble. But can you look into an Amber Wright for me?”

McKinney frowned as she picked up a pen and began scrawling on a nearby sticky note. “Who is Amber Wright?”

“I’m not sure, but I think she’s got something to do with my sister.”

McKinney’s pen paused over the paper as she looked up. “You mean, she was possibly there at the apartment?”