[MRS. MARGARET SEAMAN'S POV]I haven't visited Sandra in three weeks.Robert thinks I should go more often. Says she needs family support.But every time I think about driving to that jail, I feel sick.Because I know what she did.I've known for months.And I've said nothing.That makes me complicit.But today, I'm going.Not to support her.To confront her.The county jail is exactly as depressing as I remember.Gray walls. Metal detectors. Guards who look like they've seen too much.I fill out the visitor paperwork with shaking hands.They search me. Check my ID. Lead me to the visiting room.Sandra appears ten minutes later.She looks worse than last time.Thinner. Paler. Broken.The orange jumpsuit swallows her frame.She picks up the phone. I pick up mine."Margaret. I didn't expect to see you.""We need to talk.""About what?""About the truth. About what you did. About what I've been covering up."Her face goes still. "I don't know what you're talking about.""Yes, you do. The
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