The mafia heiress revenge

the garden, the sight that greeted him was a nightmare come to life. Abigail's body lay sprawled on the grou

desperation and disbelief. He could barely recogni

th a mixture of defiance and grief. "I loved her. I would never hurt her. Someo

oment, his expression impassive. "We have o

police arrived at your house, they found no signs of a forced entry. No one had broken in. That leaves

cation of what the officer was saying, but he refused to

e planning to have the weekend all to ourselves. We had even sent our daughter, June, away to spend time with her aun

s looks. You were the only other person in the house.The police found no signs of a break-in, and no one else had access to yo

o a mask of desperation. "I don't know what you want me to say.

," the interrogator countered, his

him like the jaws of a steel trap. He blinked against the harsh fluore

was as if his entire life had been swallowed by a void, leaving only fragments of memory to float in his consci

inally ushered from his cell, he followed the guard with a sense of resignation, like a lamb to the slaughter. The interrog

torney, Mr. Sawyer," she said

ce the name. "Mary Lamb? Or... Mary Jac

ing her otherwise expressionless face. "My name is Mary Davi

rientation wash over him. He coul

we need to establish some clarity, some consistency in your story. You claim to be innocent, yet you cannot remember key details of the night in question. You claim that no

ggling to follow

"I loved Abigail. I swear I never wanted to hurt her. But I ca

t the prosecution has a very compelling case against you. Without any evidence to support your claims, it's goi

r. "I... I was with Abigail, but... I don't know if anyone else saw

ut any witnesses or corroborating evidence, it's going to be difficult to convince the jury that you didn

g to another dead end. He desperately tried to retrace hi

g else," he said, his voice br