The air was heavy. It stuck to your skin and carried the sounds of sweet Summer music from one corner of the courtyard, smoothly into Apt 330, where Aidy stood in her tiny kitchen, stirring a huge bowl of her famous grits. She’s swaying her hips to the distant music floating into the open window. Humming along to “Every little thing is going be alright,” when the front door swings open. Miriam stumbles in. Feet dragging, eyes distant and backpack sagging off her shoulders. She’s thinking - how did the murder weapon end up in her bag? How did Aaron manage to slip it in her bag after he stabbed Rach? Miriam kept the bag with her on in the house.

When she turned the corner into the Kitchen-she lifted her wide eyes to her mom.

“Momma, I…I”

“What’s wrong Miriam, baby?”

“I…I think I found Rach’a murder weapon. It…it was in my backpack. But I don’t under stand how! Aaron was never near by bag.”

“Oh.” Aidy sighed. “That’s easy. The murder weapon…the knife…belongs to me.”