A three AM phone call about a locked room changed everything

and two packages of cheddar cheese in my red plastic basket.

A shopping cart wheel squeaked behind me, stopping near the canned peaches.

“Lily,” Stacey said.

I did not turn around immediately. I slowly placed a jar of generic peanut butter into my basket, making sure the label faced forward.

“I saw your station wagon in the lot,” she said, her voice coming continue reading …