Open the 7th book on your bookshelf to page 7.

Write a paragraph that begins with the 7th sentence on that page. Limit the length to 7 lines.

“When I saw his mug shot, I knew, but I didn’t stop poring over the local news to find out what happened, looking for answers that, when they came, were predictable and sad.”

— Dead Girls, by Alice Bolin

The nightly newscaster stared at me from my monitor with black, impassive eyes and described how the assailant had bludgeoned the pop icon to death with a claw hammer.

The hammer had belonged to the local handyman, casting suspicion on him until the coroner’s report was released stating that the assailant was most likely left-handed and over 6 feet tall.

The handyman was reported to be just over 5 feet, an elderly Cuban man who was beloved by the upscale community and had been visiting his grandchildren that day in Miami.

Eliminating the handyman from the suspect list, police focused their attention on other clues and soon discovered a set of fingerprints on a window at the rear of the house.

“Randy never even had a chance,” I muttered, willing myself to look away from the screen.

Something like this was inevitable after what had happened to us at the ranch that summer.

The shrill chime of my phone jolted me back to reality, Sam’s name printed across the screen.

“Shit,” I sighed. It had begun.

. . .