“Calm down. You left it here, on the table.” David exhales for added drama. Since when did he become a daytime soap opera star? The looks, the sighs, the attitude? Annoying.

I take a breath. I suppose I did leave it out by mistake but it’s mine.

“Mom, where did you get this?” Betsy locks eyes with me. A challenge.

“Someone left it in my purse last night. I don’t know who.”

David puts his chin on his hand and turns to the camera for his close-up. The effort to speak to me must exhaust him. “Perhaps we should talk to Dr. Rosenthal, get you back on some of those meds you were taking? This is crazy stuff. Anonymous notes. Really, Jane? Did you write this last night? Do I need to call the doctor?”

“What? No. I feel good today, I look good today. I know you noticed.” I wink at him and he breaks eye contact. I take a sip of coffee. I love being in command.

I turn my attention to my daughter. “I don’t know what theory you’ve concocted while I slept, but here are the facts. Someone left a note in my purse during the memorial service last night. And that note writer wants me to ask you something, Betsy.” I have the chills, do you? It would be such a shame if David lost both of his daughters. One murdered. One in prison. David has been a very bad person. He deserves to lose everything. “Darling daughter, what do you know about Mary’s death?”

Betsy shakes her head. “You’re losing your mind. You’re telling us someone slipped a big envelope—”

“Business-sized envelope,” David adds helpfully.

“Business-sized envelope into your purse and you didn’t notice?” Betsy asks, vying for a job as the newest member of Orange County’s detective squad. It’s good for her to practice. She should get comfortable around police.

“Correct. I left my purse on the chair.”

“How convenient,” Detective Betsy notes.

“No, it wasn’t. I needed tissues. I noticed it was gone. Kylie, helpful as always, retrieved it for me!!”

“True. That happened.” David’s eyes light up at the mention of her name but he looks down to conceal it. I see you, David.

Betsy says, “Mom, Mary’s death was an accident. There’s nothing else to it. Nothing to ask me about. Someone is messing with you.” She stands and carries her plate to the sink. I thought she said she never ate breakfast. Another lie.

I say to David, “I’m going to call Detective Branson. I’m going to tell him someone thinks there is more to Mary’s death. It’s a gift. A new witness, perhaps? I wish you two would believe me, believe this person.”

David rolls his eyes. I watch Betsy rinsing her dishes in the sink.