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Description
               It was two in the morning, and Isabel was sitting at the table drinking coffee and working on her novel when the doorbell rang. She sprinted to the door to avoid waking her mother. When she opened the wooden door, two police officers were waiting outside.
               "How can I help you?" she said, fear constricting her throat.
               "Is this the residence of Tom Alvington?"
               "Yes, sir, it is. What's happened?"
               "Are you related to him?"
               "Yes, I am, I'm his sister. What's happened?"
               "Your brother's body was found in the trunk of an abandoned SUV this morning, ma'am."
               Isabel's mind went numb, but she still heard Alberta stomp down the stairs. She hugged her mother tightly. "Mummy. Mummy, oh my God, mummy. These officers... they're saying Tom is dead."
               "What's this!"
               "Mrs. Alvington, your son was found at the site of an abandoned car. He died two days ago."
               Alberta did not cry. She didn't even blink. "That's bullshit."
               "I assure you, Mrs. Alvington, it's not."
               "I say it is," Alberta scoffed, "because I saw my son this morning. He came into the house and hugged me and said he'd be back tomorrow afternoon from a trip with friends. That was this morning, sir, so he can't have died two days ago. You have the wrong identification on that body. Now, if you'll excuse me, it's three o' clock and my daughter and I need our sleep. Good night, gentlemen." She shut the door as she held her daughter. "It's all right, love, it's all right."
               "Mummy, I didn't see Tom today."
               "You weren't home!"
               "I was home all day."
               "No, surely you must have been at the grocery store, or –"
               "Mummy! What the hell are your pills doing in the trash?!"
               Alberta blinked. "I don't need them anymore, love. I don't have hallucinations anymore."

Description
               It was two in the morning, and Isabel was sitting at the table drinking coffee and working on her novel when the doorbell rang. She sprinted to the door to avoid waking her mother. When she opened the wooden door, two police officers were waiting outside.
               "How can I help you?" she said, fear constricting her throat.
               "Is this the residence of Tom Alvington?"
               "Yes, sir, it is. What's happened?"
               "Are you related to him?"
               "Yes, I am, I'm his sister. What's happened?"
               "Your brother's body was found in the trunk of an abandoned SUV this morning, ma'am."
               Isabel's mind went numb, but she still heard Alberta stomp down the stairs. She hugged her mother tightly. "Mummy. Mummy, oh my God, mummy. These officers... they're saying Tom is dead."
               "What's this!"
               "Mrs. Alvington, your son was found at the site of an abandoned car. He died two days ago."
               Alberta did not cry. She didn't even blink. "That's bullshit."
               "I assure you, Mrs. Alvington, it's not."
               "I say it is," Alberta scoffed, "because I saw my son this morning. He came into the house and hugged me and said he'd be back tomorrow afternoon from a trip with friends. That was this morning, sir, so he can't have died two days ago. You have the wrong identification on that body. Now, if you'll excuse me, it's three o' clock and my daughter and I need our sleep. Good night, gentlemen." She shut the door as she held her daughter. "It's all right, love, it's all right."
               "Mummy, I didn't see Tom today."
               "You weren't home!"
               "I was home all day."
               "No, surely you must have been at the grocery store, or –"
               "Mummy! What the hell are your pills doing in the trash?!"
               Alberta blinked. "I don't need them anymore, love. I don't have hallucinations anymore."