Bo’s arm is around Betsy’s waist, a gutsy show of affection to display in front of me. How dare he. David’s face is ashen. I really thought he died. He should have. His blood pressure must be so high. Those little pills he’s been taking for the past two days weren’t what the cardiologist prescribed. Once he carried Kylie over the threshold, I swapped the pills. Who knew how much he needed them? Shame I didn’t have a couple more days.

“How could you? You killed our daughter?” David mumbles. He doesn’t look good. There’s still hope.

Does he really think I’ll answer him? Incriminate myself. I’m not stupid. He should know that by now. He should shut up. “I didn’t do anything. Mary’s death was a tragic accident. You really shouldn’t air our dirty laundry in public, David. Do you want me to tell them all about you and Kylie? Or how about all the abuse I’ve suffered? He hits me!” I point at David to give my accusation extra weight.

“No, I don’t.” David glares at me like he wishes he could take a swing at me, proving my point.

I smile at Detective Branson. “You should arrest him for spousal abuse, Detective. I need a restraining order, at the very least.”

Betsy takes a step closer to me. “I felt sorry for you after Mary died. I still didn’t like you, but I tolerated you. But now I know you’re sick. And you’re dangerous.” Betsy is shaking again. It’s not even cold in here. “You spied on us. Thank goodness Mary found out right before she died. She put it together. The only way you found out about Elizabeth was by spying on Mary’s texts, emails. You’re awful.”

“It’s not spying when it’s your own kids. All parents do it,” I say to my ungrateful daughter.

“And all kids who have spying parents figure out how to get around you. Did you know there are all types of encrypted texting apps, Mom, not just the one your spyware traces?” Betsy says.

Bo pulls Betsy closer to his side. “Thank goodness you insisted on that.”

I glare at them. “I would have stopped him, that’s for sure. Arrest him for statutory rape! My daughter’s in high school.”

“I’m eighteen years old, Mom. And I’m finally free from you.”

“Oh, what a bunch of hooey.” She’s so full of crap. I point at my daughter. I know they all realize she’s guilty. “She was with Mary before she died. That’s why she painted Mary and Cash on the hike. That was just before Betsy killed her sister. It’s creepy. That must be why it’s so bad. It’s like a confession.”

Betsy leans against the predator, Bo. “Deep down I knew you are pure evil.”