She shoved Aileen away and stumbled toward the stretcher.
"Eudora! What are you trying to pull?!"
A police officer stepped forward quickly, blocking her path. His expression was grim.
"Are you Effie Fox? When did your daughter die? Why was this never reported?"
Her mother wrenched free of his grip, her eyes locked on the stretcher.
"I'm Effie Fox! Who told you to bring a dead body into my home?!"
She swayed on her feet, jabbing a finger at the stretcher, her voice sharp with fury.
"Daughter? Whose daughter? My daughter is at home where she belongs! She's in poor health—don't you dare disturb her!"
How could it be?
She remembered it clearly. On the day of the birthday, I was still at home eating cake.
The night before last, Aileen had received threatening texts from me.
A living person couldn't just be dead.
Aileen rushed forward too, eager to explain to the officers, desperate to clear herself of suspicion.
"Officer, my mom and I just got back from a resort. My sister's been home the whole time. How could she be dead?"
She dug her phone out of her bag and pulled up the anonymous chat window—the one from her so-called admirer.