[ WP ] `` There was glitter all over the crime scene . ''

Madge could n't deny that her sons hated in each other. She could, however, deny why her sons hates each other. In years prior, she'd managed a thicker veil of denial, but after the years that veil had grown worn and threadbare. In their teenage years, she'd broken down and began seeing a therapist in secret. She drove to the next town over while the boys believed her to be at work, just to find some perspective on what she'd done wrong. The young counselor had told her it was n't her fault, that some people just simply did n't get along. But Madge could n't believe that in her heart. She had loved her boys, had n't she? She'd protected them from harm, had n't she? They'd wanted for nothing, had n't they? So where did things go so wrong? 
 
 Madge clutched the Kleenex and wiped her eyes clear just before the door swung open. Wyatt's heavy shoes hit the hardwood in the front room, stomping to kick the snow from his boots. Madge could tell her eldest son from simply his stride; the purposeful way that each step fell against the earth. Swift and efficient, that was the way that Wyatt had always been. 
 
 He was dressed in a long black coat when he stepped into the kitchen. He still wore his dark slacks and suit from the funeral. He'd stayed late at the reception to receive condolences and well-wishes from all of Owen's friends and distant relatives. Madge had gone home before the reception. She'd always preferred to mourn in private. 
 
 Distantly, Madge wondered if he had come here first instead of to his own home after the reception, and why. Foremost, seeing Wyatt made Madge remember the funeral and the casket and Owen's sweet face so gray and dead. She fought off a new round of tears. 
 
 `` Can you believe that pastor just left before the end of the funeral? He had me close everything off and still expects full pay? Bullshit.'' Wyatt opened the cupboard and grabbed a glass. He twisted the tap on aggressively and ran the glass under the stream. `` And then I had to spend hours dealing with Owen's faggy ass friends moping all over me. Hopefully all the networking I did pays off.'' He turned and leaned back against the counter as he drank. It was suddenly quiet without his annoyed tone. Madge nibbled on the inside of her lip. `` Most of them took my card out of pity, but I am not afraid to use that to my advantage.'' 
 
 Madge tried to listen, but her head was so far away that it was hard to take in what he was saying. She wanted to scream, cry, and run away, but instead she took a deep, long breath and finally looked up to meet her son's gaze. `` Wyatt, the police told me there was glitter all over the crime scene. It was... it was stuffed in his mouth. They filled his mouth and throat with it. It was jammed into his eyes.'' 
 
 Wyatt frowned hard, but did n't break her gaze. `` I heard.'' His voice stayed low, hidden behind the rim of his glass. 
 
 `` The police told me,'' Madge paused to ensure her voice did n't shake as she continued, `` That since glitter is so clingy to everything it touches, it makes it very easy to track in murder cases.'' 
 
 The colour began to drain from Wyatt's face. He readjusted his grip on the glass. `` Did they find anything?'' 
 
 Madge placed the folded Kleenex aside. `` They did n't. I did.'' She threaded her fingers and rested her hands on the table, feeling very much like she used to when the boys were young, and she sat them down to talk after they acted out. `` I found your jacket. You did a good job of cleaning it, but not well enough.'' 
 
 Wyatt took two steps forward to take a seat across from his mother at the table. He placed his glass aside to grasp her hand. His touch was freezing, and though she knew it was from the water condensation, she still flinched. `` This is all a misunderstanding, Ma.'' 
 
 Tears brimmed at the edges of her eyes. `` Tell me why. Why do this to your own brother?'' 
 
 Madge had seen many emotions overtake her son's face, but never had she seen it twist into such a look of disgust and hatred. It was like the veil of her denial had finally peeled back entirely, showing her twisted son for the grotesque troll he'd always been. `` You do n't know what it's like, to have a faggot brother when you're in my profession. All I do is overlooked because they take one look online and see Owen wagging his disgusting ass on video talking about gay rights.'' 
 
 Madge closed her eyes, but the tears slipped out anyway. `` Wyatt. Wyatt, Wyatt, Wyatt.'' 
 
 `` Do n't judge me. You ca n't say you were n't embarrassed by that piss poor excuse for a son.'' He leaned forward and tightened his grip on her hand. He lowered his voice, as if he was trying to soothe a trembling animal. `` Mom, it's all going to be all right. We'll just burn the jacket and no one will ever know. We can just move on with our lives.'' 
 
 Madge brought Wyatt's hand to her lips and kissed it. `` I am so, so sorry, Wyatt. I love you.'' 
 
 As the code phrase crackled through the wire hidden under Madge's blouse, the front door smashed in. Police flooded into the small suburban home, surrounding the kitchen and closing in on them. In a moment it was all over. Wyatt was out the door and her home was empty again. It reminded her of when Wyatt and Owen had moved out for college and the nest had been emptied, only far, far worse. 
 
 In a single day, from the funeral to the arrest, Madge lost both her sons. From then on, she could n't look at craft glitter without getting sick.
