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phone on the bathroom counter and left, shutting the bathroom door behind him.
    “Sasha? This is Jane Adler. Thanks for returning my call.”
    “Not at all. You’re Nancy Adler’s girl? The one who cleans houses?”
    “Yes, that’s me.” Jane sat on the edge of the bathtub, shivering. Her towel hung from the hook on the door, but she was afraid of messing up the phone call, so she didn’t grab it.
      “What can I do for you?” Sasha’s voice was raspy and emotional. “You said you wanted to talk about Michelle?”
    “I do, if you don’t mind.” Jane had a reason for the conversation all lined up, but a twinge of guilt struck her as she was about to say it. It was mostly a lie. “I, uh…” She couldn’t do it. She just couldn’t lie. “I am a criminal justice student, and I’m hoping to help with the investigation of this case.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but if you are willing to talk to me, I’d appreciate it so much.” An overwhelming sense of foolishness, exacerbated by her cold, wet, and naked state, replaced the feeling of guilt.
    “A student? Would this be for a school project?” There was more than a hint of disgust in Sasha’s voice.
    “Oh, no. Not at all. But…I was there that night, you see. And my cousin and one of my best friends put on the event, so all of us are really…affected by it. Since I’m learning how to investigate crimes, it seemed like talking to you might sort of help us all as we processed what happened.”
    “I see.” The disgusted tone was gone, but all that was left was a weariness.
    “Are you free to meet for coffee?” Jane crossed her fingers.
      “Why don’t you come by and see me around seven?”
    “That would be fine. Thank you so much for taking a little time for me.” Jane exhaled slowly. Maybe when she was a real detective, this would be easier. She got Sasha’s address and let her go. She had enough time to make a casserole for the funeral, if she ran straight to the store.
    ***
    When she got back from the store, she assembled the casserole ingredients. Rice, frozen vegetables, pregrated cheese, cans of soup, croutons, a bag of frozen chicken breasts. She could make something with this, surely.
    She dug around in her cupboards for a big glass dish like her mom used for casseroles, but they didn’t seem to have one. They did have a big soup pot though, so she grabbed it.
    The rice and soup part made sense, just put the soup in the pot and then throw the rice in.
    She stared at the bag. How much rice? Maybe the whole bag? She weighed it in her hand. It felt kind of heavy. Maybe just, like, one can of rice. She dumped the two cans of cream of mushroom soup in the pot and then added a canful of rice. Frozen veg was easy. Just dump it in with the rice.
    The chicken was a problem. The chicken breasts were frozen solid and she couldn’t cut them.
    She got a bigger knife.
    She leaned with all her weight on the butcher knife and managed to cut the chicken breast in half. Maybe the microwave would help. She put the whole sack of frozen chicken breasts in to defrost for two minutes.
    “Making dinner?” Gemma came out of her bedroom and joined Jane in the kitchen.
    Jane took a deep breath. She had so much she ought to say to Gemma, but until a better moment came, she needed to stick to the mundane. “It’s for Michelle White’s funeral.”
    “Will there be extra?”
    “Probably not.” The microwave beeped, so Jane took the chicken out. It wasn’t floppy like it was supposed to be, but it was softer and easier to cut. She cut three of the chicken breasts into little squares and dumped them in the pot. She stirred it, and then dumped the whole bag of grated cheese into it.
    “What is for dinner then?”
    “I’m not your mommy.” Jane opened the bag of croutons and poured them on the casserole, too. She stuck the pot in the oven, handle towards the door, so it would be easier to take out when it was