CLAIRE
Julian's eyes stayed on the letter, his expression unreadable. "I don't know," he said finally, his voice hollow. "The official report said suicide, I never questioned it."
"But you suspected?" I pressed.
Julian set down the letter carefully, like it might explode. "My father was violent," he said quietly. "Controlling, he and my mother fought constantly, the night she died, they'd been arguing for hours."
He looked up at me, pain flickering in his eyes.
"I was in my room," he continued. "I heard shouting, then silence, then my father calling the police."
"What did he tell them?" I asked.
"That he'd found her," Julian said. "That she'd taken pills, that it was too late."
"And you believed him?" I asked gently.
Julian's hands clenched into fists. "I was seventeen," he said.
