Because the litigation surrounding Zoe Cross’s case remains open at the time of this publication, certain elements of their communication have been redacted or censored at the behest of the Henley’s Edge Police Department. The author has noticeably marked these redacted elements with [omitted.] The absent contents remain in the archives of the Henley’s Edge Police Department and are strictly forbidden from being removed from their records.

The author wishes to extend their heartfelt gratitude to the Henley’s Edge Police Department, specifically Captain Gregory Deacon and Judge Louis Urchek for their amenableness and unwavering support throughout the course of composing this publication.

Also, the author of this publication requests that the reader be cognizant of the fact that the author is in no way affiliated with either Zoe Cross’s legal counsel or Agnes Petrella’s surviving family. The author remains a nonpartisan entity and instead patiently waits for the balances of justice to tip in favor of the truth.

Part One

PART ONE

A SLICED APPLE

POST WRITTEN BY AGNES PETRELLA ON ONLINE QUEER COMMUNITY BOARD

[The following post was recovered from QueerList.org – a website where members, usually openly identifying members of the LGBTQ+ community, can converse and solicit. The author wishes to express their heartfelt gratitude to the website’s chief administrator, Sig Thornton, for recovering the post from his well-organized archives and for being so remarkably generous throughout the research process.]

ANTIQUE APPLE PEELER WITH VIBRANT HISTORY FOR SALE

Date: Friday, May 26, 2000 at 3:47 pm EST

User: agnes_in_wonderland_76

Asking Price: $250 [will settle for $220]

I was going to begin this with some absurd comment about the irony of posting about an apple peeler in a queer discussion forum when most of us are probably triggered by the mere mention of the word “fruit.”

I decided to begin with a story instead.

Every family has a myth for the young to inherit – an undocumented fable passed between mouths, a grave illness to be contracted – as if the very words were a blight to infect the youth with and let them know they’re now welcome to the fold.

After all, what exactly is a family, if not a brotherhood and sisterhood afflicted with the same terminal disease?

When I was very young, my grandmother told me a story about how her mother – an immigrant from Naples – had desperately longed for a proper apple peeler in order to make a traditional apple pie.

The man she had married, though generous enough to gift her five children to carry in her belly over the course of six years, was resolute in his decision – he would not give her the money for the apple peeler no matter how much she begged.

So, my great-grandmother devised a plan to make her husband understand just how urgent she needed a peeler. Not only would her plan showcase her need, but it would stress a measure of safety as well.