The first thing we did was hide the body, which was not a small thing.
Then we came home, tidied up, and made dinner as though nothing had happened.

If she came home and found the house a mess—even if she couldn’t find our brother—we’d be dead, too.

Deborah Garwood ​is a writer from Missouri. Well, not really from Missouri, like, she now lives elsewhere. She still lives there. Forever and always. Probably.