Her heels were too sharp. Lips too red. Hair too perfect. And rage—pure uncontrollable rage—burned in every inch of her face.
“You!” she shrieked before I could take another step. “You murderer!”
Heads turned instantly.
Phones came out like they were filming a reality show.
“Clarissa,” I said, keeping my voice low. “You need to leave.”
She marched up to me, eyes wide with fury. “You think I’ll just go quietly? After what you did? You lured my husband into a hotel and now he’s dead!”
I stiffened. “I didn’t lure anyone and I didn’t kill him.” My voice was firm and a hint of annoyance surfaced.
She pointed at me like I was a snake slithering across the sidewalk. “Liar! You w****d your way into his life, ruined our marriage, and now he’s gone!”
My blood boiled. “Your husband was a pre
