Accused and Arrested.

That night, after the long interrogation that left me drained and trembling, I finally leaned against the cold wall of my room., the faint echo of whispers outside, and the dull ache in my chest made it hard to breathe.

My mind kept replaying the moment—the gasps, the shouting, the look on Vincent’s face when everyone turned against me. He didn’t even say my name.

I thought it was finally over for the day, but a few hours later, the sound of shoes and keys echoed from the hallway. I heard a I ok sounds on my room door and quickly opened it . Two police officers entered, their expressions grave.

“Mrs. Markston,” one of them said curtly. “You’re coming with us.”

I blinked, confused. “What… what’s happening? I already answered all your questions.”

The other officer stepped closer, his tone sharp. “New evidence has surfaced. You’re being placed under formal arrest for the attempted murder of Old Patriarch Markston.”

Before I could process it, cold metal snapped around my wrists.

The shock