Chapter 4 - WHAT THE VET FOUND
I drove to the animal hospital with my father beside me.
Vanessa wanted to come. I told her no.
The veterinarian, Dr. Morris, met us in a small consultation room. She had treated May since she was a kitten. When she saw me, her expression softened.
"I'm sorry, Emma."
I nodded because speaking felt impossible.
She placed a clear evidence bag on the table.
Inside was a short strand of beige synthetic fiber and a tiny bent metal fragment.
"The fiber was caught in the buckle," she said. "The metal piece was lodged beneath the collar seam."
Dad leaned closer. "What is it?"
"It looks like part of a small latch or hook. I can't say where it came from."
I thought of the shed.
There was an old pet crate inside it, left from when my mother used to foster kittens.
Its door had a beige nylon tie wrapped around a broken latch.
My stomach turned.
"And May?"
Dr. Morris looked at me directly. "There are signs she was under extreme stress before she died. I also found injuries that do not fit a simple fall from a bed or chair."
Dad's face went gray.
"Are you saying someone hurt her?"
"I'm saying I think this should be documented and reported."
I stared down at my hands.
May had trusted our home.
I had trusted it too.
On the drive back, Dad kept both hands locked around the steering wheel.
"I should have noticed something," he said.
"So should I."
"No."
I looked at him.
He swallowed. "Vanessa complained about May last week. She said the cat kept scratching at the door to my study. I thought it was nothing."
"Your study?"
"Yeah."
My mother had used that room before she died. Afterward, Dad locked most of her papers in the built-in cabinet and rarely touched them.
When we got home, the study door was open.
The cabinet inside had been forced.
May you like
Papers covered the floor.
And the envelope containing my late mother's will was gone.
