He dropped to his knees to comfort her.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

She shook her head,

“Josh, I told Mom what Dad’s been doing to me.”

“Seriously? What did she say?”

“That bitch didn’t care. She said she’s known for years that this has been going on.”

Joshua didn’t understand.

“For years? You said it was one time.”

“I said that because the truth was too much for me to put on you. I thought you might do something crazy. And I didn’t want that. I just wanted someone to help me.”

Josh’s face went white. His eyes stayed on her.

“I let you down, didn’t I?”

“It’s okay.”

Joshua stood up and turned to the door. Their father stood there.

“What are you ungrateful kids doing in here?”

“Just talking,” Joshua said.

“I heard what you were talking about and it’s complete bullshit. Your sister is the biggest liar in the county. She’s full of shit. Never touched her once.”

Joshua put a hand down to help Sarah get up.

“We’re going to go to the sheriff, Dad. You’re going to stop.”

Merritt started for Josh. His eyes bulged from his face. He looked as angry as Joshua and Sarah had ever seen their father. He wasn’t holding a belt to beat them, but his bare hands.

Just before he reached Josh, the teen grabbed a claw hammer and swung it at his father’s head. After one strike, the big man fell to the floor.

He struck him a third and fourth time, sending a spray of blood upward.

“What just happened here?” Sarah screamed.

“I saved you.”

A few minutes later, Ida came looking for her husband. When she entered, she processed the chaotic scene. She looked at her kids and rushed to Merritt.

“What did you do?” she asked.

Then the hammer went down.

* * *

We drive in silence for a while as I think about the blood evidence.

“That’s not what happened, Sarah.”

“It is too.”

“The evidence says otherwise.”

She doesn’t say another word for at least a mile. I stay quiet, letting my challenge to her story sink in. I wonder if Sarah is thinking of a way out of what she said or giving in to the reality of her situation.

“Joshua did it all. He did it to protect me.”

“That’s a story, Sarah, and you know it.”

“I don’t understand what you’re getting at, Detective Carpenter.”

My eyes burn into hers through the rearview mirror. I’m thinking of the evidence that’s never been mentioned, or thought of as inconsequential.

“The shovel,” I say. “Let’s start there.”

She looks away. “What shovel?”

“The one you used to kill your mother.”

She doesn’t say another word.