The detectives had left Wendy alone in the interrogation room for what felt like an eternity, though it had only been an hour. The silence was stifling, broken only by the occasional footsteps echoing beyond the tightly shut door.

  She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms, as she tried to steady her breathing. How did it come to this? she thought, her mind replaying the events of the past few days. I was so careful. How did they find out? Or are they trying to extract a confession from me?

  The door creaked open, and Wendy’s head jerked up. A man in a crisp suit walked in, carrying a leather briefcase. His demeanor was professional, and he sat across from her.

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  “Ms. Wendy May? I’m Robert Hargrove,” he said, setting his briefcase on the table. “I’ve been assigned as your legal counsel. I understand this is a difficult situation, but I need you to be honest with me so I can assist you.”

  Wendy’s shoulders relaxed slightly, though the knot in her stomach remained. “Thank you,” she said nervously.

  Robert opened his briefcase and pulled out a notepad. “Let’s start from the beginning...

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