Her admission strikes hard. The moment I saw the photo of the body, the way they posed around it. Proud. They all kept that secret. And as a girl Mrs. Evans reported it, but she was shut down by the police. Her father was protected. I’m still confused about why she wants us to hear this.

“Cathy Marcom and I became close friends years later. The secret we kept—that terrible secret—tormented us both. Cathy had dated Richard until he became abusive, too, so she left him for Mark Davidson.”

Mrs. Evans gulps hard, then looks to Mr. Evans. He strokes her arm, and she refocuses on the center of the table. She rubs her fingers over a scar on her arm. She paid physically for going against her father. That fear to speak out beaten into her. Dean’s face is red; he’s gulping for air to keep from breaking. I look away. I need to focus on the truth she’s finally speaking.

“In the weeks before the night of the Davidsons’ murder, I’d been speaking to Cathy often. Our store is just a few blocks away. Cathy was scared because Richard kept threatening Mark, telling him not to work with James or Jackson.”

I do a double take at Mrs. Evans. Mama takes my hand under the table, and we hold on for the truth that must be coming. Her legs are quivering next to me.

“Mark wasn’t having it. He refused to be threatened like that. He…he was a good man. Mark called Richard to let him know he was a businessman, and he wasn’t getting caught up in Richard’s personal beliefs. Cathy grew up with Richard. She knew he was violent. That he wouldn’t let it go. That’s why I stayed late that night at the store, to keep an eye on Cathy. In case she wanted to ride back with me.”

I’m staring at Mrs. Evans with my mouth open. She knew Richard was threatening the Davidsons. All these years acting above us when she knew the truth. Richard had all the motive in the world, not Daddy. And then Richard went after Angela because she got ahold of his gun. The same one Scott used in the mob at the Black Lives Matter rally.

“I called the police station, even let the prosecution know about Richard during James’s trial, but they didn’t call me back. Said they wouldn’t need my testimony. They had evidence that it was James and Jackson.”

Mrs. Evans is distracted. Lost in thought. Like she’s holding back more. “It never went anywhere. When Jackson Ridges faced off with the police, it was clear he was guilty. I let it go.”

“Jackson was scared his family would be hurt,” I blurt out. “You should have told the defense, not the prosecution. How could you do that?”