Page 97 of Lemon Pound Cake Club

The detectives exchanged another look.

“I know how this looks,” she whispered, shaking her head. “But I didn’t kill my husband.”

Neither detective answered. One of them handed her a business card.

“If you remember anything else, call me.”

As they turned toward the driveway, another officer hurried over.

“Detective.”

He leaned in and spoke in a low voice. The detective nodded once.

Then he turned back to Camille.

I gripped my phone tighter.

Zaire exhaled beside me. “This is getting messy.”

“Yeah,” I said quietly.

“Very messy.”

Miss Evelyn sighed.

“They’re treating her like they know something she don’t.”

I watched Camille sit on her porch steps and bury her face in her hands. Neighbors drifted back inside. Their whispers lingered, and sympathy was already moving through the neighborhood.

◆◆◆

By lunchtime, the neighborhood was quiet again. The patrol cars had left.

The doorbell rang. When I opened the door, Danielle stood there with a bakery box, and Jade held two salads from the café by the neighborhood entrance.

"We figured you probably hadn't eaten," Danielle said.

"And honestly," Jade sighed. "None of us wanted to sit at home by ourselves."

Nia and Simone weren't far behind.

Soon, we were all gathered around my kitchen island, barely eating our lunch.

We sat together in silence, no music or TV, just our voices filling the room.

"I still can't believe he's gone," Simone whispered.

Danielle gave a small nod.

"I can't either."

Jade put her fork down on the table.

"The detective came back after y'all went inside this morning."

We all turned to Jade.

"He said Camille was released from the hospital just before midnight."