*03/03/2020 - 𝙐𝙉𝘿𝙄𝙎𝘾𝙊𝙑𝙀𝙍𝙀𝘿 𝙁𝙀𝘼𝙏𝙐𝙍𝙀𝘿 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏*
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Everybody at Black Hill knows about the lake by the old house. They know never to let an open wound bleed out in the murky waters. Never to take their e...
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The front door creaked open and Linda peered out. For a moment, we stood almost a foot apart. From this close, I could see the lines that decorated her face.
Who let her inside our house?
I recoiled, stepping as far away from her as I could without falling off the porch. The sounds of a raging argument spilled from behind the door. I heard Mum sobbing in the background. Linda smiled. It looked painful for her. I opened my mouth but she stepped back inside and turned around, cutting me off.
"Annalise is back!" She sang.
The words soared over the din - like a thousand buzzing bees - and a man came crashing out of the living room. It was Mulroy. His fedora sat crumpled on his head, his face drawn and tired. Like he'd been waiting for me for a while. I wanted to shrink back into the shadows, let the darkness swallow me whole.
Or not. I still wasn't dry from passing out the last time. The briny water was a souvenir from the lake.
Mulroy didn't speak to me as he led me inside my own home. Linda slammed the door shut behind me, offering to take my coat. I shook my head, hoping to God she wouldn't insist. My tongue was a brick in my mouth, heavy from panic.
In the kitchen, two familiar police officers sat at the dining table across from Mum. It was like a police investigation, with a light over the table illuminating a circle around her. One of the officers, a frumpy looking woman with straw hair, spotted me before Mulroy opened his mouth. She stood up.
They were the police that wanted to question me a few weeks ago.
"Annalise Madigan, I'm Officer Una and this is my colleague, O'Malley. We've been having trouble as of late with your mother," Una said.
She nodded to the bald man and brought out a small flipbook. Like a detective on an old show.
Mulroy gestured for me to sit beside Mum, and I slipped into the hard leather. She didn't turn to look at me. I wasn't sure I wanted her to. I didn't want to see the disappointment in her eyes.
From our kitchen, the living room was visible through an arch that opened into the hallway. The Committee of Friends sat on our couches, staring at us over mugs of tea. Linda nibbled at a custard cream, her eyes wild and bright. What voodoo magic did they have to do to get permission into our house?
And where have they put Oliver?
"What troubles are we talking about?" I asked. I was beyond caring about social niceties.
Una turned to O'Malley, who only shrugged and waved a hand for her to go on.
"We need a witness report from you. They're a few simple questions and your mother here refuses it. There's only one option left, honestly, and it's not a good one."
