Just Sarah’s cheek, cropped tight, edited by omission into evidence.
I opened the bedroom door.
Sarah was still in the hallway.
Her eyes were red, but not from remorse.
From strategy.
Tyler stood behind her, pale and sniffling.
Then he said the one thing nobody expected.
“Grandma said not to tell Uncle Mike about the blood.”
Sarah spun around.
“Tyler.”
His whole body flinched.
On the phone, Michael went silent.
“What blood?” he asked again.
This time, he sounded like he finally understood there was a room he had not been allowed to see.
I put the phone on speaker.
“Say it again, Tyler,” I said gently.
Tyler looked at Sarah.
Then he looked at Olivia in my arms.
“She hit her,” he whispered. “Olivia took my hot dog, but she didn’t know. She just grabbed it. Grandma slapped her and she fell. Her nose bled.”
Sarah lunged one step toward him.
