A ray of midafternoon sun stole through the curtains and Tania watched the dust motes move in random patterns. It had been a week since Dublin, but Dad hadn't said one harsh word. She had been expecting a show down, but he had been unusually restrained. Not sure how to deal with it, she wished he would just confront her. Get it done with. Her phone beeped. WhatsApp message from Harmeet, who left the week before. "I've always felt that the best place to hide a body is in the trunk of a cop car, with a note affixed to the body that reads, 'I'm sorry'- Jarod Kintz." She smiled at Harmeet's persistence.
She walked to Dad's room, not wanting to procrastinate any longer. He was at his desk peering at his laptop; glasses perched on the tip of his nose. He looked up as he heard her approach.
She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry."