Mom closed her eyes.
Then said quietly:
“And Margaret was your friend for fifty. Look what happened to her.”
The silence outside was immediate.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then footsteps sounded on the porch.
Agnes was leaving.
I hurried toward the side window and watched from a safe distance.
An elderly woman wearing a dark coat walked carefully toward a waiting car.
Her hair was silver.
Her shoulders were slightly stooped.
But even in the dim porch light, I recognized her face.
Agnes Vale.
Alive.
She opened the car door.
Before getting inside, she turned toward our house.
And smiled.
It wasn't a warm smile.
It was the expression of someone who knew exactly how frightening she could be without raising her voice.
Then the vehicle drove away.
Police arrived minutes later.
Detective Ortiz examined the security footage from Mom's doorbell camera.
Agnes's face was clearly visible.
So was the vehicle.
