“I know,” Sally said. “Of course you’re right. But what could I do? By the time I found out, it was already over.”

“Sally, she was completely alone. How can you not see that? You let him in your house, and she knew you didn’t care about her.”

“I did care. She’s my child. Of course I cared. You know I sent her to therapy as soon as she told me what happened. I found the best doctors. But she lied to them, too, she just made up nonsense, or sometimes she wouldn’t speak at all. We tried medication, antidepressants, but she refused to take them. She wouldn’t let me help. She was so difficult. She specifically tried to antagonize me.”

“Can you blame her?” I said.

“It’s funny,” Sally said. “I gave her everything I had, and she didn’t care. Look how wonderful you turned out. I should have sent her to live with your mom.”

I gaped at her, said nothing. It didn’t deserve a response.

“Charlotte, I’m sorry,” she said after a minute.

She rose and tried to hug me. I stood there, holding my breath, and as soon as she let go I ran out the door. I rode fast out of that neighborhood, trying to keep in a straight line. At home I locked my bike and started up the steps. By the time I got inside and changed out of my sweaty clothes I had decided to call Ash. He answered on the first ring.

“I need to talk to you,” I said. “It’s about Danielle’s murder. I think it’s important.”

“I can come by in an hour, will that work?”

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll be at home.”

I thought about what Sally had said. It was true Danielle went out of her way to piss off her mom. The drugs, the stripping, the temper tantrums. She knew exactly what would embarrass Sally, what would upset her, make her feel powerless, and that’s what she did. I understood why, but even so, I felt sorry for Sally. She tried to believe she did the best she could, automatically justifying each of her mistakes. She knew how to spend money on a problem, and if that didn’t work, she was lost.

And Danielle did not forgive. She was not someone you could fuck with. But that wasn’t right, though, not exactly—people did fuck with Danielle, people hurt her all her life. Her uncle. Sally. Even her dad just left and never stayed in touch, never supported her. And then she got killed. How could someone do that to Danielle, when she was so tough and smart?

While I waited for Ash I called Sally back. She answered right away.

“Charlotte, honey,” she said. “I’m so sorry—”

“I have a question,” I said, cutting her off. “Where is your brother now?”

“I’m not sure. He’s still in Denver, as far as I know. I haven’t spoken to him since that Thanksgiving.”

“Thanks,” I said, and hung up.