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EMERALD LAKE
The sun sparkled across the surface of the lake, appearing like it had been sprinkled with silver glitter. Birds were singing an evening song, and a light breeze cooled the hot air. It was a perfect night, and anyone else curled up in the deck chair experiencing its magic would have been relaxed and at peace.
Not Chelsea. She felt depressed, beyond angry, and most of all labelled. Her common sense told her it was perfectly natural for the police to put her on their list of suspects. Wenner had said it this afternoon; last person to see him on his property and first person to see him after his attack.
I get it.
That wasn’t what upset her. Why can’t people get beyond the fact that I was a victim?
It was their reasoning behind their looking at her that infuriated her. Th
