The Unseen Operative

Previously

…Marie sat across from her, a fragile porcelain doll in a sea of dark velvet, her eyes red-rimmed but dry now, a testament to the exhaustion of grief. She clutched a silk handkerchief, its edges frayed from nervous twisting. “They said… they said it was his choice, Pam.” Her voice was a whisper, barely audible above the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall, each tick a hammer blow against the silence. Pamela offered a small, tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “The police have their theories, Marie. But theories aren’t always the truth.” She gest