I lay flat on the metal bench in my cell, arms folded under my head, staring up at the cracked ceiling like it held answers I’d somehow missed.
The silence pressed against my ears, broken only by the sound of distant footsteps and the sounds coming from adjacent cells.
My thoughts raced, twisted and tangled.
I was trying to be calm and strong. But deep down, I felt like I was crumbling.
So this was it?
A false accusation, a few careless whispers, and suddenly I was wearing the label of a killer. Not even a trial, not a word in my defense. Just judgment that was kind of silent and cold like concrete.
I turned my head and let out a breath.
I wanted to sleep, but my mind wouldn’t stop.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw my children’s faces. The way Adam sniffled when his toy broke. Ho
