“I have to go pick her up,” he said.

“Of course,” I said.

“We will talk about this tonight, Evelyn,” he said, walking past me.

“When Claire is asleep.”

He paused at the door, looking back.

“Make sure Rose doesn’t come back,” he said.

“She won’t,” I said.

Once the sound of his car faded down the driveway, I moved quickly.

I went to the kitchen island and picked up the glass Richard had used.

There was still a small pool of water at the bottom.

I took a clean cotton swab from the downstairs bathroom.

I carefully rubbed it against the rim of the glass where his lips had touched.

I placed the swab into another small bag.

That was two.

Now I needed Claire’s.

I ran up the stairs, my heart pounding in my chest.

The house felt incredibly empty, the silence pressing in on my ears.

I opened Claire’s bedroom door.

The room smelled of her vanilla perfume.

I walked over to her vanity table.

Her pink hairbrush sat beside a stack of textbooks.

I picked it up and held it under the vanity light.