I threw the papers I’d been holding down onto the ground. They fluttered and spread, covering the floor with conversations between the three of them and the driver who had committed the act.
Their guilt was there, splattered all across the floor.
“Deny it,” I said threateningly, my teeth clenched. “Someone please deny it so I can tear your throats out.”
“It wasn’t my idea,” Claire said, her bottom lip wobbling. “Ethan made me do it!”
“You vile b***h!” Victoria snapped. “You are the one who manipulated him into doing this! And me too! I didn’t like Amelia, but I never wanted to murder her!”
“Victoria,” Ethan said sadly but firmly, as if trying to get her to stop. He knew me perhaps better than anyone else in this room. He knew this kind of talk was futile with me. In fact, it only made
