KNOX’S POV
“Hale—”
“No, don’t stop now. You started this s**t, so finish it.” She rounds on the unit, and her voice goes bright, sharp, and absolutely poisonous. “You, with the gloves. The bench by the fire lifts up. Huge space under it. Excellent place for all the murder weapons I apparently keep lying around. And the second floorboard past the rug is loose. It’s been loose for years, so congratulations, you’ve finally found a use for it. Pull it up.” She’s moving as she talks, throwing open her own wardrobe doors so hard they bang against the frame, dragging out a drawer of her own and dumping it- hats, gloves, a lifetime of small folded things- all over the floor. “There. Winter drawer. Done. Want the chimney next? Go ahead. Maybe I’ve stuffed poison up the flue with the soot. Very wi
