Chapter 2 - The Alibi
Two detectives walked into my hospital room just as the sun began to rise over the city.
They introduced themselves in soft, pitying voices, clearly believing I was a fragile victim of random violence.
Detective Miller pulled up a chair and asked if I could remember anything about the intruder.
I stared at him with wide, vacant eyes, projecting absolute confusion and terror.
I slowly shook my head, letting a single tear fall perfectly down my cheek.
Miller sighed, explaining that Julian claimed a masked man broke in through the kitchen window.
According to my husband's statement, he had been in the shower when he heard me scream.
Julian told them he fought the attacker off, but not before the man had strangled me into unconsciousness.
It was a brilliant, cinematic lie designed to make Julian look like a heroic survivor.
I kept my face entirely blank, masking the burning rage that threatened to consume me.
I reached for a pen and a notepad resting on the bedside table.
My hand shook as I wrote a single, desperate question on the white paper.
"Where is my husband?"
The detectives smiled gently, assuring me that Julian was right outside the door.
They stepped aside, and Julian walked into the room, looking perfectly disheveled and devastated.
He rushed to my bedside, grabbing my hand with a grip that was just a little too tight.
He kissed my forehead, his expensive cologne making my stomach violently churn.
"I'm here, baby," he whispered, his eyes scanning my face for any sign of defiance.
May you like
I squeezed his hand back, offering him a weak, grateful smile.
He had absolutely no idea that he was holding the hand of his own executioner.
