If You Didn't Kill Your In-laws, Who Did?
I was the prime suspect in the notorious murder of my parents-in-law in Cardinal City.
The one who arrested me was my wife—Linda Reese, the police chief.
While the verdict was still pending, the killer struck again. The new victim was murdered with the same savage cruelty.
Linda knelt before me, begging me to tell her the truth. I told her I didn’t know.
The victims’ families screamed, demanding that I be carved into pieces.
Three months later, Linda found me beside a garbage bin, bringing with her a memory-decoding device.
Her hands trembled as she pressed two thin needles into my temples.
“I’m sorry, Finn. I know you’re not the killer. I just want this slaughter to end. I don’t want anyone else to die. Let everyone see your memories—let them see what really happened back then.”
But when she finished watching my memories, she collapsed to the ground, utterly broken, and fell to her knees.