The police officer thought it would be unkind to snuff out Deirdre’s hope, so he asked tactfully, “Do you have any solid proof, Miss McKinnon?”

“Proof?”

“We can’t sentence someone based on he-says-she-says. We need more witnesses and evidence.”

“Don’t I count as an eyewitness?”

“You do, but since you’re blind, the defendant can easily weasel her way out of this accusation. It’s really hard to make a solid case if you’re the sole witness.”

A person came into Deirdre’s mind—and the color in her eyes darkened. She thinned her lips. “I… I know another eyewitness, but I don’t know if she’s willing to help. Regardless, I’m willing to try. Can you help me summon this person? Then I’ll talk to her alone.”

Maeve O’Keefe was brought in a while later. Despite her seemingly calm expression, she was gripping the edge of her skirt tightly as though she had predicted this outcome. The police escorted her into an interrogation room, where Deirdre was already waiting.

The older woman almost coul