Calliope's ex-boyfriend, her high school sweetheart, crash-landed back into her life like a rom-com sequel she never ordered, ready to rewrite the script of her existence once again.
***
"You...
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"Thank you for agreeing to meet with us, Sarah Thompson. We understand how difficult this must be for you, but your cooperation is crucial to ensure justice prevails. We'll just ask you a few questions about what you witnessed that day." Steve takes the lead, interviewing our first key witness, the neighbor.
Meanwhile, I'm sitting here staring at my plate, trying to figure out which damn knife I'm supposed to use for my steak. This fancy country club looks like it raided King Arthur's kitchen. Who needs almost eleven fucking utensils just to eat a meal? I've been around money long enough, and still don't understand this shit. Give me a burger joint any day, and I'll know exactly what to do.
Can I just eat or do I need a degree in dining etiquette to avoid everyone looking at me like I'm stupid?
When I look around, I get it. I've been in Grand Rapids for a few years and never stepped foot inside of Royal Oaks. It's insane, like a super charged mansion. Chandeliers hanging all over the place, bars scattered like it's a cocktail party on steroids, and a golf course that's probably bigger than the entire city. I've heard the chefs here are top-tier, but I'm just assuming that, considering I haven't even touched my steak yet. This place is a whole new world, and even for a guy like me, I can't help but feel a bit out of place.
Steve's a regular here, been a member for years. He's been bugging me to come, and finally, I gave in. Rich people, though—I can't stand 'em.
Shaking off the confusion, I refocus on Sarah as she tells us what happened that night. "Yes, I'll do my best to help. It's just so tragic, you know? Angela was a good woman. She was always nice to my sister and me."
Everyone we've talked to keeps saying the same thing. The husband swears she'd never hurt a fly, and even those who knew Angela well say the same. She's just too damn nice, and that's going to benefit us, I hope.
As I stare at the collection of knives, a long-forgotten memory resurfaces. It's Cal, snuggled up in my arms, as we watched Pretty Woman—probably for the fiftieth time that week. She was going through her Julia Roberts phase back then. Julie faced the same challenge until the rich dude whispered, "Start from the outside and work your way in." Funny how that advice stuck with Cal, and I guess it stuck with me, too.
So, following that thought, I do just that—start on the outside. "We'll make this as comfortable as possible for you. Take your time," I say.
My partner gives a nod of agreement, showing that we're here to support and listen.
"It was a normal afternoon," Sarah begins. "I was playing in the backyard with my little sister Hadley. Our parents were working, and she wanted to hang outside. That's when I heard the commotion next door, but I didn't think much of it. People argue all the time, but I didn't expect it to escalate like that. I could've done something sooner."
I offer a reassuring smile. "It's not your fault, Sarah. Sometimes things unfold unexpectedly. Can you tell us if you noticed any concerning behavior from Joshua in the days or weeks leading up to the incident?"
