“It’s so funny, isn’t it?” Lily pressed on when her father didn’t speak. “Jack gave a false alibi for Belle. Dr. Holloway gave a false alibi for Jack. Everyone’s been lying for everyone, but only because we’re innocent. You lied to cover your own ass.”

Lily’s dad reached for her, but she yanked her hand away at the last second, and then there was only the rose. Pale pink petals. Sharp curving thorns. Andrew’s hand wrapped around it, and he pulled back, cursing.

Lily leapt from the table. Without a single word, she hurried to the hall closet and pulled out some Band-Aids. On the way back to the table, she grabbed a rag from the counter and handed it over. “Clean the wound,” she instructed, as if she were the parent and he were the child.

So thoughtful. So nurturing.

Andrew did as she requested without a moment’s pause. Then Lily was plucking the rag from his hand, passing him the Band-Aids. As he wrapped one around his wounded finger, Lily strode to the window over the sink and inched the screen open. She handed the rag to Jack.

Andrew might’ve missed the entire thing. He would have missed it, if Jack hadn’t spoken from the other side of the window, saying, “Thanks, Lily. I’ll take this to the police. Once they match it with the evidence they found at the scene of the crime, they’ll make their arrest.”

This part was a bluff. The police had found no physical evidence at the scene of Evelyn’s murder. No fingerprints, except Evelyn’s and Dr. Holloway’s. But Andrew could’ve easily left a strand of hair on the kitchen table, and he wouldn’t know that he hadn’t until it was too late.

Jack waited, breath held.

Lily waited too.

Andrew’s brow furrowed at the sight of the figure standing on the other side of the window, dressed in a long green jacket and holding a bloody rag. “What’s going on, Lil?” he asked his daughter, rubbing at his eyes. “Who is that?”

He didn’t sound scared. Jack couldn’t make sense of it. But Lily, bless her hardened little heart, didn’t falter at her father’s confusion. She simply returned to the table, picking up the rose. “You thought you could kill a person and no one would suspect you, because you left no evidence at the scene of the crime. But all it takes is a single fingerprint or a few drops of blood.”

Andrew pushed away from the table. He kept sliding his jaw back and forth, as if he were chewing on a particularly tough piece of steak. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You weren’t there.”