“What is your relationship with that murderer?” she snapped. “Would you really rather go to jail than give her up?”
“I told you, Celeste. I have nothing to do with her.”
She was so angry she could barely get the words out.
Her voice shook as she growled through clenched teeth.
“You think I won’t sue you?”
I met her gaze.
She shoved me aside and stormed off.
---
Three days later, I received a court summons.
When I stood in court and pleaded guilty, Damien smirked and raised an eyebrow—as if to say, figures.
Only Celeste’s face was completely expressionless.
Pale. Cold. Frighteningly calm.
She had hired a top-tier lawyer—someone who twisted the language of the law into a weapon. Through strategic misinterpretations and subtle exaggerations, they pushed my sentence up to eight years.
Not long after the verdict, she came to visit me.
“If you testify for Alden,” she said quietly, “I’ll get you out. I swear it.”
I gave her a faint smile.
“Ms. Hartwell,” I said, “take care of yourself.”
I didn’t know if I’d make it out alive.
She inhaled sharply. Her voice trembled as she whispered, “You knew everything, didn’t you? That night… it was just you and that bitch. You saw everything, didn’t you?”