I sat in the interrogation room, my heart beating so loudly that I feared they could hear it through the walls. I knew what was coming but I had prepared myself for it.
The door opened, and in walked Detective Cavanaugh. He was a tall man with graying sandy hair, piercing blue eyes, and a stern expression. I felt like he could tear me to pieces just by looking at me.
“State your name,” he ordered, taking the seat across from me.
“Elizabeth Stone.”
“And for the record, are you speaking to me voluntarily?”
“Y-yes.”
“Are you here to confess to murdering Philip Phoenix?”
I nodded, avoiding eye contact as I did so. He had the eyes of a panther, and I feared that if I looked straight into them, he would see through my veil of lies.
I had come this far, and I couldn't afford to get caught
