“Hello again,” Sloan said, setting a file folder and small canvas bag on the table. “Marie, the first thing I want to make sure of is that you see the cameras and the microphones. This is all being recorded.”

Keeping her head down, Marie gave a small nod. Her handcuffs clinked as she brushed at hair stuck to her face, her fingertips still ink-stained from being fingerprinted.

“You were arrested and charged because the evidence against you is overwhelming and ironclad,” Sloan said. “There are some important things you need to know before this goes any further? Will you agree to that?”

Marie shrugged and mumbled.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you,” Sloan said.

“Okay,” Marie said.

One by one, as if laying down playing cards, Sloan placed photos before Marie.

“We’ve got your fingerprints on the knife, in the blood all over the house, impressions from your shoes in the blood.”

Sloan reached into the bag and withdrew small, clear evidence bags. One held Marie’s death’s head skull ring, the other, a photo strip of Marie, Nikki and Janie taken in the mall photo booth.

“These pictures were among the items we found in our search of your room at your house. We’ve arrested Nikki and Janie, too.”

Marie didn’t move.

“And they’re telling us things, Marie.”

Marie’s breathing quickened.

“What do you suppose they’re telling us?”

Marie said nothing.

“Do you know that one of them kept a journal?”

Marie didn’t speak.

“That’s right. We have it now. We have everything and we know everything.”

Marie began rocking back and forth in her seat.

“You know what else I know?” Sloan said. “Look at me, Marie.”

Marie’s eyes shot to Sloan.

“This isn’t the first time you’ve been involved in the death of innocent people, is it?”

Marie shut her eyes as tears flowed.

“There was your little brother, Pike. I looked into his death and you know what I found in the file, tucked deep in a social worker’s report on your state of mind and your feelings at the time? That you admitted that you thought your parents loved Pike more than you. That he was their favorite. How did that make you feel?”

Marie’s face crumpled and she looked away.

“Angry. Worthless and angry—that’s what you told the social worker. That’s interesting because when he was choking right in front of you, you never called for help, did you?”

“No, it wasn’t like that!” Marie sobbed.

“But you let him die, right in front of you. You killed him. No more family favorite. Problem solved.”

Marie began shaking her head, gasping and sobbing.

“It was ruled accidental,” Sloan said. “But you knew the truth—just like you know the truth now. You hated yourself for what happened to Pike and you took your rage out on the Tullocks, didn’t you?”