No one who entered the kitchen noticed any blemish. Not a utensil was lopsided on the shelf, just as Nina liked it to be. Even the stools stood erect, slid neatly under the table, out of the way. The carpet, however, was a new addition.
“It doesn’t sit well,” she had whispered disapprovingly, not that anyone heard.
She watched as Tim and Daphne entered. Tim held his daughter in a tight embrace, as the tears flowed.
“She’ll never be forgotten,” he choked, standing inches from where Nina had been murdered, the carpet hiding the dried blood that couldn’t be cleaned.
(© 10th June 2015)