Manipulation I

"Oh, darling, you did, didn't you? Why did you not call? And does your job have anything to do with the handsome gent by the door?" Marilyn spoke without caution as if Riccardo wasn't standing there, being watchful and listening. She knew he was doing all of those. What she did not understand was why Elma had started to shake under her weight. "We were worried sick about you, honey."

"Of course, you were."

"But then, we were going to ring the cops—"

"No — no cops," Elma croaked slightly and nestled in closer to the woman's hold. Earlier today, she'd worried if she would ever get to see her family again; if she would once again wrap her hands around her sweet loving aunty and relish in the delectable scent of her rich champagne hair.

Thinking back, Elma found that she could not stop the strand of tear that descended her lid tracing down on her left cheek. She was aching from remembering those things and the pictures of those bodies …