"Officer, thirty-five counts of perjury. How many years does that carry, again?"
The color drained from Detective Mercer's face.
"Laurel Fox, I've been working cases for twenty years. I've seen arrogance. Never this much."
He jabbed a finger at the stack of statements.
"Thirty-five people telling the exact same story. You think anyone's going to take your word over theirs?"
I watched his finger tremble with barely contained anger.
"The law believes evidence."
The young officer taking notes looked up and glared at me.
"Your attitude is abysmal. Refusing to confess to the facts of your crime won't do you any favors."
I closed my eyes and said nothing more.
In my last life I'd fought to explain, and all it earned me was their laughter and Damian sneering, "Who are you trying to fool with the innocent act?"
Now I understood. The moment you start defending yourself, every word out of your mouth becomes ammunition for the other side.
The interrogation room sank into a silence like death.
After some time, the door opened.
A sharply dressed superior walked in and murmured a few words into Detective Mercer's ear.
Mercer glanced at me, then followed the man out.