Page 65 of Vera Wong's Unsolicited Advice for Murderers

Julia’s gut turns sour. She is angry and upset and everything else, but Vera only nods and leaves the table. The two of them go into the living room. Julia takes Emma out of her high chair and hugs her close as she, Sana, and Riki follow, stopping to listen from behind the door.

“I can’t believe you handed my manuscript to the police,” Oliver is saying.

“Why? Is there something you are hiding in it?”

“Wha— No! But I let you take it because I thought you were—I don’t know, I didn’t think you would betray me like that. I thought we were friends!”

“We are. But your story...”

Julia bites down on her lip so hard that she tastes blood. Vera is fishing, prodding for answers, pretending that she’s finished reading Oliver’s manuscript in the hope that he might reveal what the ending is. Sensing Emma stiffening in her arms, Julia whispers, “Hey, baby? Do you want to go into your room for a bit? Maybe spend some time in your relaxation corner?” The mention of the corner reminds Julia that it was Oliver who came up with it. Ugh. Everything is tainted now. But she’ll have to deal with that later. For now, it’s more important to make sure that Emma isn’t being frightened. Emma nods and Julia lowers her to the floor, where she toddles off into her bedroom. Julia sighs with relief and turns her attention back to the argument.

“Is fictional!” Oliver is barking. “That’s exactly what it is, astory. And thanks to you, the cops think I might have had something to do with Marshall’s death.”

“Why?” Vera says. “What is inside your manuscript?”

“What? Did you not even read it before handing it to the police? Jesus, I can’t believe that, of all the fucked-up things—”

It’s too much. His anger at Vera, a helpless old woman, his stupid, ongoing rant. Julia strides into the living room and says, “She didn’t do it. I did.”

Both Oliver and Vera turn and gape at her. There is a long silence, then Oliver says, “What?”

“To be fair, I didn’t mean to. I wasn’t planning on doing anything—well, I hadn’t decided yet, I was still skimming through it when Officer Gray dropped by. She found the manuscript on the couch and took it with her.”

While Oliver struggles to come up with a response to this revelation, Julia gathers her strength, sharpening her fury until it becomes a single, sharp point. “And how dare you, Oliver?” Her voice is soft but steady. She is done with letting men’s bullshit go.

“What?” Oliver says.

Can he not say anything else?she thinks. He’s supposed to be a writer, and yet here he is, stuck with repeating the same word over and over again. “You’ve been in love with me since we were teens? And even after Marshall and I got married, you were still—what, pining for me? And fantasizing that Emma’s your kid?” By now, Julia’s voice is a poisonous hiss. Behind her, she can hear Sana’s and Riki’s soft gasps.

Color drains from Oliver’s face. “No, Julia, it’s not like that—”

“Really? Then tell me what it’s like. You’ve hated Marshall your entire life. And okay, granted, that’s understandable, because you know what? Marshall was a fucking asshole. Yeah,” Julia says,nodding at everyone in the room. “I really did just say that about my dead husband. He was a total shit. And so I get it, Oliver. You hated him. I do too. But see, you actually wrote in your book that you’re going to make sure that he no longer gets away with it. So tell me, what did you do? Because I didn’t get to finish reading the book before Officer Gray showed up, but obviously, the ending was disturbing enough for her to question you about it.”

“No, I didn’t—”

“What,” Julia says, enunciating every single word, “did you do to Marshall?”

“I planted drugs in his bag!” Oliver shouts.

The room falls silent except for the sound of Oliver breathing hard. “I was fixing up the plumbing at one of the apartment units and I found this little bag full of pills taped to the inside of the toilet tank. The unit had been recently vacated, so I had no idea what to do with them. I looked them up. They were ecstasy. I think? I don’t know. I took them back to my place and I thought about throwing them away, or turning them in, but then I thought—hey, maybe this is a sign. Maybe these pills are a gift from the universe, a chance for me to finally get Marshall in trouble.” Oliver rubs his hands down his face and groans. “I know how that sounds. I know it sounds completely stupid, but you don’t understand, Marshall’s been getting away with everything ever since we were kids. He’d do shit like shoplift or cheat during exams, and if he ever got caught he’d blame it on me, and no one—” His voice hitches with unshed tears, and despite herself, Julia wants to cry for him. “No one ever believed me.”

The thing is, Julia understands completely. She’s been there, after all. She’s experienced firsthand the irresistible charm that Marshall had. The way you knew, deep down inside, that he wasno good, but still you couldn’t help but go along with it, you couldn’t help but let him get away with it. And when she looks around the room, at Sana’s and Riki’s expressions, she knows that they get it too. That they’d seen for themselves what Marshall had been like. They were all, despite themselves, feeling horribly sorry for Oliver. Because sure, she’d been married to Marshall, but Oliver had shared a womb with him, had gone through all of his childhood and formative years as his twin brother, tethered to him. What would that have been like, to have to be so close to someone whose shine dazzled everyone and be the only person who knew that the shine came from a poisonous radiation?

“So I met up with him. The day before he died, and I slipped the drugs into his bag when he wasn’t looking. I was going to call the cops on him, but then... I chickened out.” Oliver snorts. “I guess that’s what I do. I’m just a coward, after all. I thought of taking it back, but I couldn’t figure out how to do that without making him suspicious, so I did nothing. The next night, he died. I was scared shitless. I had no idea what had happened. I thought maybe Marshall had found the drugs in his bag and took them. Maybe he had an overdose. Maybe the drugs had been cut with something toxic? I don’t know! But then the autopsy report came out and, well, you all know the rest. Bird dander.” Oliver snorts again. “After all that, it was fucking bird dander that got him.”

Julia is staring at him, mouth agape, her mind on fire. The thing is, she believes him. She’s known Oliver since they were practically kids. She knows when he’s telling the truth. Slowly, she looks around the room. Everyone else is looking just as stunned as she feels.

“So you are not killer?” Vera muses, after the shocked silence becomes unbearable.

“No,” Oliver says. He turns to look at Julia, and his face falls.“Julia, I—I’m so sorry for writing about you like that. It wasn’t about us, it—”

Julia shakes her head. “I don’t wanna hear it. Just don’t talk to me.” He might not have killed Marshall, but it doesn’t make everything he’s done okay. And, in a way, she feels even worse now, because her emotions are all over the place. Does she get to be furious at Oliver still? Even though he didn’t kill Marshall? And who the hell did kill Marshall? It’s all too much, all of it boiling over. “I don’t understand. So who killed Marshall? Vera, you said you’d figured it out! Who was it? Who killed him? Who broke into your shop?”

“I don’t know who kill Marshall,” Vera says quietly, “but I know who break into my shop.”

“What?” they all say as one.

“I break into my shop,” Vera says.

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