The Inmate

by Freida McFadden

“So I took another look under the blanket.” Tim winces as he says the words. “It looks like Brandon was stabbed to death.” “He… he was?” Tim’s face is so close to mine, I can make out all his features in the dark. But I can’t see the freckles that are usually slightly visible when I’m close to him. “But there wasn’t a knife next to him. I couldn’t find one, anyway.” “Oh…” Tim jerks his head at the kitchen counter. “I got worried that whoever it was would come back, so I went to get a knife from the kitchen. And guess what? All the knives are gone.” I stare at him. “What?” “Right? Pretty weird. There’s a knife block on the counter, but it’s empty.” I shiver and hug myself. “So what does that mean?” “I’d say it means that whoever did this planned it in advance and got rid of all the other weapons in the house.” “Tim.” I feel like I’m choking. “What are you saying?” “I think you know exactly what I’m saying, Brooke.”