SABRINA'S POV
County Jail - Present Day
The orange jumpsuit scratched against my skin as I sat on the thin mattress, staring at the concrete wall of my cell. In three days, my attorney would return with the plea deal paperwork.
Life with possibility of parole after thirty years instead of life without parole.
Mabel Duncan had explained it with the exhausted patience of someone who knew her client was guilty. "The evidence is overwhelming, Sabrina. The toxicology, the financial records, your own recorded confession. If we go to trial, you'll die in prison. But if you plead guilty, show remorse, there's a chance—slim, but a chance—you might see freedom again before you die."
Thirty years minimum. I'd be seventy-eight years old.
But it was better than never.
I closed my eyes, and the
