Excerpt: Autopsy Girl

I was outside at five until noon the next day, even though it was beginning to snow. I had my gloves on and stood with my arms wrapped around my waist as I scanned the road for his car. Today I would see his house and his neighborhood and him, I would see him, and I would see how many details I had pinned down correctly.
At half past twelve, my mother made me come inside. I sat by the front door and looked out through the window every minute or two until one, at which point my mother found something she suddenly needed me to do for Roxy. I breathed faster than I would have liked, my stomach hurting, and my mother fixed me tea without saying a word.
At two-thirty, the phone rang and she beat me there, I let her beat me there, and even though she closed the kitchen door I heard her talking, saying Chris over and over again, and that was my dad's name. “Chris, she was waiting for you,” she said. “No, you listen. Chris, listen. Your daughter was waiting for you all day.” She slammed a cabinet door. “Where are you?” she said.
I sank down on my knees in the living room and wondered the same thing, and I felt so stupid for still being upset by this, and Christmas was always difficult.