CHAPTER ONE
HER
“Are you ready?” The officer stares me down with harsh eyes as he waits for me to stand. There is no real question in his words. Ready or not, it is my time to go. My time to face all that I’ve done.
I nod my head, standing from the uncomfortable bench in my tiny cell. “Yes.”
I turn around as he approaches me so he can place the cuffs on my wrists, the sting of the metal on my bones so familiar I almost ache for them when they are gone. Like the wedding ring I once fiddled with every time I grew nervous. If it were still on my finger now, I am sure I would’ve managed to saw the digit clean off.
“Your lawyer is just down the hall.” His tone is harsh, though his eyes seem kinder than the other officers’ have been. He opens the door slowly, pushing me through it while holding tightly to the cuffs. We walk through the corridor in silence, each step taunting me as we grow closer to the place where I’ll have to talk about what happened for the first time since that night.
Can I do it?
Better question, do I have any other choice?
When we reach the door to the room where my lawyer is waiting, the officer pulls on the cuffs. “Whoa,” he says, slowing me down in the same manner you would a horse. “In here.” He pushes open the door and walks me through.
The room is smaller than I expected, though I recognize the large mirror on the wall and the small table in the middle of the room from the numerous detective shows Mark and I used to watch.
Mark. Oh, how just the thought of his name pains me. Just the mere thought of his existence is enough to send me reeling back into the darkness that has consumed me for the past few weeks. I can’t allow myself to go back there again.
My lawyer, a short, squat man who I’ve only met once before—and briefly at that—is seated at the table with an iPhone plastered to his ear, and he does not look happy.
His thin lips are pressed into a tight line, and he groans. “Fine, just…do what you can. Send those to me either way.” With that, he pulls the phone from his ear, presses a button on its greasy screen, and stands up. The hair on his wrists sticks out from under the edge of his suit jacket as he crosses his arms over his plump belly. “Hannah.” He greets me by a first name I’ve never given him permission to use, though he seems to know it’s the one I prefer. “Nice to see you again.”
I nod, though I don’t bother returning the nicety. We both know it’s far from nice to see each other—though I suppose it is nice for him, after all. I am sure my parents are paying him a pretty penny to be here for me.
He extends an arm, motioning for me to sit in the chair across from him. I do so dutifully, the metal of my cuffs sliding against the chair. I feel hands on my arms and hear the keys rattling as my wrists are freed. I throw my arms forward feverishly, rubbing my raw wrists and already missing the cuffs, despite the pain they’ve caused. The officer takes a few steps back before receiving an encouraging nod from my lawyer. “Thank you. That will be all for now. I believe we have a full hour.”
Needing no further instruction, the officer walks from the room. Once the door has shut, my lawyer takes a deep breath, his large mustache wiggling.
He grins at me in a way that should be friendly but only seems creepy. “Now that he’s gone, we can get more comfortable, can’t we? How are you feeling?”
I chew on my bottom lip, placing my hands on the table and digging my fingernails into my palm. “Nervous,” I admit.
“That’s normal,” he tells me, setting his phone down on the tabletop and opening the green folder in front of him. Sitting right on top is a giant picture of my mugshot. I grimace and force my eyes away from the picture and the memories that come with it. If I go there, I will break. I have to hold it together. “So, what I want to do today is just go over a few of the details. We need to work on preparing our case to go to trial, if that’s what you want. I think we have a good shot at a better plea deal than they’ve offered, but I want to hear what you have to say before we make any decisions.” He pauses, letting out a breath through his nose. “Okay?”
“Okay,” I say, trying to still my shaking voice.
He pulls a pen from an inside pocket of his charcoal blazer and clicks it. “So, start from the beginning. Tell me what happened the night of the murder.”
CHAPTER TWO
HIM
“Are you ready?” the officer asks, opening up the door to my cell. I’m not, but I nod anyway. I stand from the metal chair they have bolted to the floor and turn around, allowing him to place a pair of handcuffs on my wrists. The asshole tightens them on purpose, but I don’t dare flinch to let him know it hurts. He wants to see my weakness, and I refuse to give him the satisfaction. “This way,” he tells me, pulling me out of the cell and down the hall.
He stops us in front of a metal door and, without knocking, pushes it open. At a small metal table in the center of the room, sits a large, red-faced man. He is reading through a pad of scrawled-out notes in front of him, but when we enter, he stands and turns the paper over so I can’t see what it says.
“Hello,” he greets me. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Mark.”
I grumble a brief greeting before the officer sits me down at the table and removes my handcuffs. I’m no longer seen as a threat in this room, apparently. The lawyer takes a seat after I do and clicks the pen in his hand. “My name’s Brock Cavendish.” He holds out his hand to shake mine, and I hesitate before extending him the same courtesy. I wait until his eyes show doubt and I can tell he’s feeling foolish. He needs to know I’m the one with all the power here, even now.
When the officer has left the room, Brock Cavendish clears his throat. “Now then, I’ve just spoken with Hannah.” Hannah. The name stings in the back of my throat like hour-old vomit, but I force it out of my mind as quickly as it enters. She has no place there anymore. No. I can’t go there. Won’t. I am surviving in this hellhole, thriving even, strictly thanks to my ability to shut things off—emotions, in particular. It’s always been a strength of mine.
“Before we dive in, I wanted to say thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I needed to sit down with you today and discuss the case against both you and Hannah, see what I can learn from either of you. Now, you’ve probably been told, but your representation is covered—her parents have taken care of that. I expect you’ll be hearing from your lawyer within days, but whatever you can tell me to help clear up some things would be very helpful.”
I nod. “Okay.” I need to clear my name. He needs to know how everything went wrong. He needs to know the truth about her and everything that happened, all of it.
“So,” he flips the page to a blank one so quickly I can’t even catch a glimpse of whatever he’s trying to hide, “tell me about the night of the murder.”
We hope you are enjoying the book so far. To continue reading...
Copyright © 2025 All Rights Reserved
Please log in to recommend or discuss...
