There are more emails from a series of strangers. They have questions. They’re confused by my branch on their family tree.

Who were we as an adult couple, not just two college kids sleeping on each other’s hand-me-down mattresses?

This is what I deserve, I thought the whole ride from court to county.

But it’s ridiculous to keep holding on to the past, holding on to hair that no longer wants to be kept.

I’ve read numerous articles about the murders, searching for some shred of evidence, some hidden rationale for this crime, but the more I read, the faster the details fade, like water smearing ink on a handwritten letter.

“We might be broke, but we’re happy,” Carlos says..."And we’re happy because we enjoy ourselves in the moment. You’re broke and depressed.”