What Goes Around

Twenty-Two Melanie Hardeman

Twenty-Two

Melanie Hardeman

The detectives drive away. I relax as best I can, regather my bags and carry them to my house. I really shouldn’t have overreacted to their appearance. We were all warned to expect interviews at the very least.

I plop my bags on the porch and dig for the house key. My hand shakes so badly I can scarcely get the damned thing in the slot. Finally, the key slides in and I give it a twist.

It’s okay. I’m okay. They believed me. I have nothing to worry about.

They don’t know what happened yet.

I close my eyes and think of how I’m going to celebrate. That bastard has to be dead. It’s the only explanation.

Maybe his body will never be found.

I hope he’s burning in hell the way he deserves.