LOGINThe death penalty?The words echo in my head, louder than anything he’s said so far.I didn’t kill anyone.No one’s even been seriously hurt on my behalf—unfortunately.“Am I the only one facing the death penalty?” I ask, forcing calm into my voice as I subtly readjust the neckline of my shirt, reclaiming control where I can.“You are.” His tone is flat, almost bored. “My sergeant wants me personally seeing to your expiration.”Expiration.The word grates against my nerves, but I don’t let it show.“And if I give you the source of those drugs,” I press, tilting my head slightly, “I avoid it completely?”“Yup.” He pops the p like he’s enjoying this far too much.I resist the urge to roll my eyes.“What about Rebecca?” I ask, watching him carefully. “You’d be a fool to let that maniac walk.”“She’s not going anywhere.”“And Alan?”He shrugs like it’s nothing. “He’ll probably be home in a month. Thirty days served, probation after that.”My jaw tightens.Thirty days.That’s all it takes
“Your turn, Mike.”The words echo down the corridor as I make my way toward interrogation, the hum of fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. The station feels heavier today—like it’s holding its breath.“How was your crack at Alan Smith?” I ask, casual on the surface, though nothing about this case is casual anymore.Miller meets me halfway down the hall, rolling tension out of his shoulders. “Went just as planned. He signed a statement against Rebecca Smithsdale.”A smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth. “Well, that’s one domino down.” I crack my knuckles slowly. “Guess it’s time to take a swing at Blaire Crenshaw.”“What about Olivia Smith?” I add, glancing at him.Miller hesitates—just a fraction too long. “She doesn’t have anyone left. Not with all of them in custody. She’s scared.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I was thinking… maybe she could stay at my place. Just until we figure something out.”I stop walking.“Don’t fall for her, Miller.”His jaw tightens. “She just needs somewh
I follow the judge toward his chambers, casting one last glance over my shoulder.Jessie stands where I left her, the bailiff stationed firmly at her side. Her eyes find mine, uncertainty flickering beneath the surface of her composure. I give her a small, reassuring nod before the doors close behind us.Alan is already gone—escorted out in handcuffs, his protests fading down the corridor.Good.The judge says nothing as he leads the way, his silence heavier than any reprimand. The soft echo of our footsteps fills the hall until we reach his private chamber.He steps inside without pause.It isn’t until I follow him in that he finally speaks.“Close the door, son.”I do so quietly, the click of the latch sounding louder than it should. I take a seat across from his desk, keeping my posture straight, controlled.“May I ask why I’m here, sir?” I say carefully.The judge doesn’t sit right away. Instead, he removes his glasses, setting them down with deliberate precision before finally lo
The hour drags, each second stretching thin as I force myself to focus on Lincoln’s quiet instructions. His voice is steady, grounding—but it barely muffles the weight pressing down on my chest.“You should be paying attention to your husband.”Alan’s voice cuts across the room from the opposing table, sharp and deliberate.“And you shouldn’t be addressing my client,” Lincoln snaps, his tone turning instantly cold.“She’s my wife.”“Tell that to the judge.”The tension thickens, clinging to the air. I can feel Alan’s eyes on me again—burning, possessive, suffocating.“Jessie,” he says, softer now, as if that alone could undo everything. “I’m willing to forgive you. We can put all of this behind us.”For a moment, I can’t speak. My throat tightens, my hands trembling in my lap as the weight of everything he’s done threatens to silence me again.But not this time.“No.” The word barely leaves me, fragile but firm. I swallow hard, forcing the rest out. “Why can’t you just let me go?”The
I allow Lincoln to escort me to the seat reserved for us on the left side of the courtroom. His hand rests lightly at the small of my back, guiding me forward as the quiet murmur of voices fills the room.I try to avoid eye contact with Alan, but I can still feel his stare—heavy and relentless—boring into the side of my face like a physical weight.My chest tightens.As I take my seat, I lean slightly toward Lincoln and whisper in a nervously hushed tone.“How is he here?”Lincoln glances briefly across the room before lowering his voice.“He must’ve made an arrangement with one of the correction officers,” he murmurs back before straightening and stepping forward to approach the judge.I watch as Alan’s attorney rises as well.The moment I look closely at him, my stomach drops.Richard.Just the sight of him makes anxiety creep up my spine. I’ve met Richard before, and what always stood out to me was his fearless determination. He was ruthless in a courtroom—calculated, sharp, and un
The drive to the courthouse feels longer than it should.I sit quietly in the passenger seat, watching the city blur past the window in muted streaks of gray and gold. The late afternoon sun hangs low in the sky, casting long shadows across the road. Everything outside moves normally—people walking, cars stopping at lights, someone laughing on a street corner.Meanwhile, my entire life feels like it’s being dismantled piece by piece.Lincoln hasn’t spoken much since we left the precinct. His hands rest firmly on the steering wheel, his eyes focused on the road ahead, but I can feel the tension in him. His jaw tightens every now and then, the muscle jumping slightly beneath the skin.He’s thinking.He always is.And it’s become a habit after heI glance down at my hands folded in my lap, twisting my fingers together nervously.In less than an hour, I’ll officially be divorced.The word feels strange in my mind.Divorced.For years I thought marriage meant permanence. Stability. Safety.
Once I was within roughly eight feet of them, my entire body tensed, ready to spring into action. I’d planned to charge straight at that enigmatic blonde — that mystery woman cloaked in secrecy — and grab her by the shoulder, forcing her to turn and reveal the face that had haunted me for months. P
After watching Jessie greet guests gracefully and with poise, I meet with her near the refreshments table.“You handle yourself well, given the circumstances. If I didn’t know any know any better, I’d say you were happily married.” I say casually as I motion for the bartender to hand me a beer from
“You really think so?” I ask coyly. Better to act innocent than to rush after Jessie and make my motives obvious.“Absolutely. Tall, handsome, and successful. It’s just shocking to see you’re not married by now.” She is definitely flirting with me. This is getting uncomfortable. Is Grace drunk? Or
After closing the door behind me and listening closely to see if Alan had followed me, I sit down on the bed, finally take a deep breath, and pull out my phone. Although I told Alan I’d contact and try to spend some time with grace, I had no intention of actually doing so. I just couldn’t after thi







