Chapter 2 - The Camera Never Lies
The cold, unforgiving metal of the interrogation table sent shivers directly into my swollen ankles.
I had been sitting in the windowless room for three hours, entirely alone with my spiraling thoughts.
My house was slipping away, my neighbor was dead, and I was somehow the prime suspect.
The heavy steel door finally opened, and a detective I hadn't met yet walked in with a laptop.
He didn't bother introducing himself before turning the screen to face me.
"This is footage from the doorbell camera across the street from your house," the detective said smoothly.
He pressed play, and the grainy, black-and-white video flickered to life.
The timestamp in the corner read 2:14 AM.
A figure emerged from the side of my house, walking purposefully across the lawn toward Mrs. Whitaker's back door.
The person was wearing my distinct, oversized yellow maternity raincoat, the one I had left hanging on my porch chair.
Even worse, the figure walked with the exact same heavy, pregnant waddle that I had developed over the last month.
"That isn't me," I said, my voice cracking under the immense pressure of the evidence.
"She's wearing your coat, walking from your house, and returning to your yard twenty minutes later," the detective countered.
"Someone stole my coat to frame me," I insisted, slamming my hand onto the metal table.
The detective chuckled darkly, closing the laptop with a sharp, dismissive snap.
"Pregnant women don't typically orchestrate elaborate murder frame-ups in quiet suburban neighborhoods," he mocked.
I begged him to test the blood on the gardening glove for my DNA.
He assured me they were already rushing the lab results, but the video was enough to hold me in custody.
Just as he reached for his paperwork to officially book me, the steel door swung open again.
A tall woman in a sharp, expensive gray suit stepped into the cramped interrogation room.
"My client will not be answering any more of your questions," the woman announced with absolute authority.
The detective stood up, clearly irritated by the sudden, uninvited interruption.
"And who exactly are you?" he demanded, crossing his arms defensively.
"I am Evelyn Reed, her legal counsel, and her bail has already been posted in full," she replied, tossing a receipt onto the table.
I stared at the lawyer in complete shock, having never seen this woman before in my entire life.
"I didn't hire you, and I certainly don't have the money for bail," I stammered.
May you like
Evelyn offered me a chilling, perfectly rehearsed smile.
"Your ex-husband Brian hired me, and he's waiting for you outside right now," she whispered.
