CHAPTER 32
OLIVER STRAIGHTENED HIS tie and picked up his briefcase.
“Wait!”
I wiped my lip gloss off his face. Watermelon pink wasn’t a good look on him.
“Thanks.”
Then he was gone, and I shot along the corridor to the nearest ladies’ room to do the rest of my panicking there. According to Oliver, I was the last witness for the prosecution. What if I screwed everything up? What if Carter’s insanity defence succeeded and it was all my fault?
I wiped my nose and blotted my eyes just in time for a lady to call my name.
“Stefanie Amor?”
“In here.”
“You need to hurry up, darlin’. They’re waitin’ for ya.”
“I’ll be right out.”
Now I understood how prisoners on death row felt, walking to their execution. Actually, maybe not. At least they got a decent meal first, whereas I hadn’t eaten
