But it was right.
I’d gotten sixty years in prison for killing two cops during my “drunk driving” accident.
“He killed two cops.” My mother snickered, sounding overjoyed. “It’s right.”
She crossed her hands in front of her and stood, looking so prim and proper that it hurt.
“Since you’re going in for a while.” My mom smiled. “I hope you know that I’ll take really good care of your sister.”
This fucking bitch.
Six years later
“I found something out,” my sister whispered.
My head tilted. “What?”
She clenched her hand on the phone and stared into my eyes, her gaze heavy. “I found out how Mom got you drunk.”
My stomach sank. “You did?”
I’d always suspected that she was behind it.
Any time anything went wrong with my life, she was responsible.
“The last time that Mom had to go into rehab, they injected her with alcohol intravenously to help with withdrawals. That’s where she got the idea,” she said. “And you weren’t the one responsible for smashing into that police station. She was. I…some of my memories came back recently.”
I blinked.
“Really?” I breathed.
“Really. I knew you didn’t kill them.”
I hadn’t.
I knew I hadn’t.
Yet, every single time I tried to tell everyone that, they looked at me like I was the scum of the earth.
The truth was, my car had plowed into a police station.
I did have a blood alcohol level of 0.22.
And I did happen to be in the area of where the accident had taken place, though I’d been passed out on the street a block from the police station.
But here was the thing.
I’d never driven drunk before. Hell, I’d never drank alcohol at all before. I had a stellar driving record, never had a speeding ticket in my life, and I never even drove above the speed limit.
I was too scared to.
The town that I’d lived in hated us.
My mom had burned a lot of bridges, and I had to keep my nose clean or else I’d end up in jail right beside her. Because the cops of Cedar Ridge had no tolerance for Arquettes.
But what I’d been accused of doing…I knew I hadn’t done it.
Yet, there was no proof.
