My mother was my alibi for the night of Courtney’s death. I explained to her the way it would look. I swore to her I didn’t kill Courtney, but I needed an alibi. I needed her to help me. And she did it. A year later, she changed her mind. She decided I probably did kill Courtney after all. Can you believe that? What kind of loyalty is that to her daughter? Yes, she was right. But still. Luckily, Joe helped me again. He was her doctor too by then—I made sure of that—and it was almost too easy to label her with a diagnosis of early-onset dementia.
