Interrogation

The candlelight reflected from her face, looking younger somehow. “It wasn’t my fault,” she said. “Not my fault.”

“I understand, ma’am,” said Detective Morris. “All I need are a few small details. Remember those for me and you can rest.”

“It was him, not me. Not my fault. He planned it. He killed them, not me.”

“She’s in a loop,” said Trenton.

Morris frowned. “We need a stronger connection. Her body isn’t enough; she hated it anyway.” He blew out the candle. The old woman’s spirit flickered out with the light, leaving the two policemen alone in the morgue again.