Hailey
I"m seated on the curb, picking at my cuticles. I"m surrounded by cops with their guns drawn. I see Tyler being led out of the house with his hands in the air, and my heart sinks. This is all my fault. If I had just been able to remember more about what happened to me, if I hadn"t gone running that day—or any other day I suppose—if I had been more careful about what I posted online, none of this would be happening. But I was too stubborn, too naive, and now Tyler is going to pay the price.
I watch as the officer"s question him. They"re grilling him, and I can see the fear in his eyes. The thought that he might go to prison is agonizing. I want to tell them everything, but I know that there"s no point. If we admit this was anything other than self-defense, they won"t need a trial.
