Chapter 6 - THE FRIEND WHO KNEW TOO MUCH
My neighbor June had known me for thirty years.
She brought casseroles after Thomas died.
She held my hand through the funeral.
She also knew where I kept my spare key before Sarah ever touched it.
The thought sickened me.
I told Helen I was afraid I had begun seeing conspiracies in every kindness.
"Then use evidence instead of fear," she said.
We reviewed the camera archives.
Three nights before Sarah's assault, June had crossed my driveway at 11:42 p.m.
She carried a small box.
The old camera captured her opening my garage side door with a key.
I remembered that I had lent her a key years earlier for an emergency and never asked for it back.
I called June.
She answered cheerfully.
"Margaret, darling, are you feeling better?"
I asked about the garage visit.
Her voice faltered.
She said she had been returning my gardening shears.
I told her the footage showed a box, not shears.
Silence.
Then she said, "You shouldn't have opened Thomas's papers."
The words chilled me.
"June, how do you know about the papers?"
"Because Thomas made promises he couldn't keep."
She ended the call.
Helen advised me not to confront her in person.
Detective Ruiz took my statement, and I revoked every shared access code.
By evening June's house was dark.
A moving truck had appeared in her driveway.
David watched from across the street as workers loaded only three suitcases and a metal filing cabinet.
The rest of June's furniture remained untouched.
Just after sunset, a note slid beneath my front door.
It read: THE WOMAN WHO ATTACKED YOU IS NOT THE ONLY DAUGHTER WHO WAS LIED TO.
At the bottom was a single initial.
May you like
M.
