“Impossible. Emma was my best friend. She would never steal my boyfriend. You’re just making this up after killing her, trying to escape responsibility.”
“I’m not lying. And think about it—even if you believed this story, it wouldn’t completely clear me of suspicion. So why would I go through so much trouble to fabricate a lie that doesn’t even exonerate me?”
My reasoning was sound.
Sophia calmed down a little, frowning.
“You said she warned you that you’d regret rejecting her. So you think she killed herself on purpose, just to frame you for murder?”
“Exactly. That’s what I suspect. But then again, no matter how reckless or unhinged someone is, would they really throw away their life just to frame another person over something this trivial?”
I spoke with a furrowed brow.
“So, you still can’t prove you didn’t kill her.”
Sophia stared at me intently.
“Right. At the moment, I can’t prove my innocence. She’s dead in my bed, and only the three of us were here.”
“Then let’s call the police and let them investigate.”
“No, don’t call the police.”
My refusal immediately deepened Sophia’s suspicion.
She tore herself free from my grasp, stepping back a few paces.
Her eyes sharpened, her voice icy.