Page 48 of Keeping Knight

I didn’t think anything of it at first. But then I watched Micah’s smile fade into something far grimmer. Then he started to look mad. His posture stiffened. His hands tightened into fists.

My stomach swooped to my feet. I knew it had to be something bad. I just couldn’t imagine how bad it actually was.

At least, assuming Sylvia’s actually guilty. Maybe she’s not. Maybe we’ll discover it was someone else—a neighbor or someone from our cooking class or some person I’ve forgotten from high school.

I hope so. Because if it was Sylvia…

My dad would be so upset. He would feel so guilty.

A rustling sound to my right draws my attention to the plain-clothes officer standing in the doorway. He glances at Rogue and gives him a quick nod. “We’re about to start.”

Tension thickens the air.

My heart stutters. For a moment, I hold an inner debate with myself.

Do I really want to watch this? Do I need to? Or would a second-hand report work just as well?

But I’m here. I insisted on coming. What kind of coward would I be to back out now?

Micah stares at me for a second before leaning over to brush his lips across mine. “Whatever happens, I’m here for you. Okay?”

I nod. Then I take a deep, steadying breath. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

Almost in perfect unison, we rise from our seats. As we head towards the doorway, Rogue takes the lead, then me and Micah walking side-by-side, and Jester following behind us.

We walk in silence down a hallway lit by fluorescent lights. One is flickering unevenly, and the strobe-like blinks make my nausea even worse.

Micah reaches for my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. It helps a little. But it doesn’t ease the sensation of foreboding hanging over me.

About halfway down the hallway, the officer opens a door to our right. He waits for us to catch up, then gestures inside. “The window is one way,” he says. “And the sound is dampened in here. Unless you shout, the people in the interrogation room can’t hear you.” He turns to Rogue and gives him a warning look. “Nothing you hear leaves this room.”

Rogue nods. “Of course. Thanks for getting us in.”

Once we’re all seated, we sit in silence while we wait for the interrogation to start. Time seems to stretch on forever, even though my watch says it’s only been a few minutes. My palms get clammy. My heart pounds in my ears. Bile burns the back of my throat, and once again, I contemplate chickening out.

Then two officers enter the other room, followed by Sylvia and a suited man who I’m assuming is her attorney. The officers sit at one side of the table, and Sylvia and her attorney take the other.

I clutch Micah’s hand. Hard.

Through the speaker, one of the officers asks Sylvia, “Can you tell me your name and where you’re from?”

Sylvia glances at the man next to her. A beat later, he nods. “Sylvia Ashe,” she replies. “I live in Suffern, New York.”

And that’s how the interrogation starts.

The first few minutes are more basic questions like that. Where she lives, where she grew up, what she used to do for a living… and I can see her visibly relaxing as the interview goes on. I’m even feeling less stressed about it. I find myself thinking, There’s no way Sylvia’s involved. Whatever Micah and his friends are all worried about, they’re mistaken.

But then the questioning shifts.

“When did your husband pass away?” the officer I’ve nicknamed as the Nice Cop asks.

Sylvia tenses. “A little over a year ago.”

“How did it happen?”

My hands go clammy.

“A heart attack,” Sylvia replies after a brief hesitation. “They called it a widowmaker.”