CHAPTER 24
“I’m sorry,” Sandy says as she rushes through the door of the police room. “I came as quickly as I could, but traffic was something awful.” She sweeps by the officer holding open the door and nearly trips on the carpet. I’m out of the cement room at least. The mental health liaison I finally met said I shouldn’t have ever been set up in the interrogation rooms in the first place, explaining that I have to forgive Detective Drisklay, who sometimes forgets the difference between victims and suspects.
I’m not ashamed to confess that I had a complete breakdown while the detective was questioning me. As soon as I realized this meeting wasn’t about my dad, I stopped focusing on my own survival and understood that everything the police were telling me was true. Mom is gone. So is Chr
