‘Can you open them, Daddy?’ asks Sonny, pointing to three cases at the end of the aisle, separate from the others. ‘Just the one, as we’re pressed for time,’ I say and slide the barrels of the combination lock until the bar opens. I place it on the floor and he eagerly opens the lid like he is unwrapping a Christmas present. Inside are four human skulls that belong to the owners of several houses Debbie’s parents moved into and killed.
