The Relationship Between the Murderer and Me

"Have you heard?” Mrs. Larson leaned in, her voice lowered to a whisper. “The old lady in Building No. 2 was hacked to death by her own daughter-in-law!"

I shook my head quickly. "Mrs. Larson, I really don't like hearing this kind of gossip.” My voice was firm, hoping to end the conversation before it started.

The weight of the grocery bag pulled at my arms. Today, beef was selling for four dollars per kilogram and I had bought ten.

Mrs. Larson’s eyes fell on the bag. "That’s a lot of meat for one day,” she remarked, her head slightly tilted.