Cyanide.

I taught this in one of my eighth grade chemistry units.

Hours pass as I sit on the floor and help Alice with her homework. She is very sorry about my daughter but life must go on. I must be a good mommy.

Thank you, Alice, for reminding me of what’s important.

She does a math problem on the other side of the bars. I sit cross-legged and pull from my memory what I learned years ago about cyanide. I steady my expression because Dolly’s eyes are surely watching very carefully now.

In small doses, the body will change cyanide into thiocyanate which can be excreted in urine. In larger doses, it prevents cells from using oxygen, causing those cells to die.

The heart, lungs, and central nervous system are the most susceptible. Symptoms can include shortness of breath, vomiting, dizziness, weakness, and confusion. Seizures. Cardiac arrest. Death.

Apple seeds contain amygdalin, which will turn into cyanide when exposed to the enzymes in the human gut. They must be crushed or chewed for the amygdalin to be released. It can take thousands of apple seeds to kill a grown man. But how many, I wonder, to make him sick?

The time does not go to waste. I do not allow myself to indulge in the panic that is at my door. I have removed the splinters from my skin and applied some ointment Alice found in her bathroom. I have changed my clothes which were drenched in the sweat of the morning’s terror. I have showered. And I have cried the last of the tears I will cry.

I think about cyanide. I also think about Nicole as the clock ticks away.

There are only two things that would bring her back to this town. The first is a man. The second is me. I know my daughter. I understand her suffering. A man would not hold her attention for long. The newspaper article said she was here for four days. That’s long enough for her to get drunk and meet a man. A man like Mick. A cop, probably involved in the search. I remember those first few days—how he came and went. And now—she has returned, maybe for him. But it won’t last.

She will peel him off of her like the rotten skin on the apples outside. Even if he was wonderful. Perfect. Even if he offered love. Especially if he offered love. She cannot accept love. Not from anyone.

Oh, how I understand her suffering.

That leaves one reason for her to stay now. Me. Finding me.

I remember her words the morning I left for Evan’s school. I remember her face when she said them, and how they jabbed at my heart in quick bursts as they left her mouth.

I hate you—but that was just a small one. A little jab. But then,

You killed my sister! The first big one, and then,