“But what do you know?” he asked. “For sure.” He needed something definite.

She closed her eyes, put her head in her hands.

The clock ticked quietly. It was nearly three in the afternoon. Someone was brewing coffee, and the scent filled the room. A shuffling sound as the interviewer shifted in his chair, impatient.

She tried to slow her breathing, gave herself silent commands, “Calm. Remember.”

After a few minutes, she lifted her head, eyes open. They were still there: the police officer, the interviewer, and her brother. He looked exhausted. Up all night, too. Exhausted with her.

“I know what I saw.”