“We know you hid in the study while your wife was attacked! We know you protected the killer for five years! We know Tasha is still unconscious! What else do you have to say?” My forehead hit the floor, blood blurring my vision.
I knew everyone hated me; my cowardice, my protection of the killer and the harm done to Tasha. But I couldn’t speak. I really couldn’t. Some truths were more terrifying than death.
I pulled out a hidden porcelain shard I’d taken from a bowl in the detention center. When his grip on my hair loosened, I moved quickly and cut my own neck.
Warm blood poured down my neck. It was over; no more torture, no more risking that terrible truth being exposed. “Tasha, I’m sorry… this is the only way left to protect your dignity.”
“Stop him!” Vincent shouted and a strong force knocked me to the ground.
The bailiffs pinned me down. Vincent crouched, watching the blood from my neck. “Erickson, do you want to die? It’s not that easy!”
He grabbed my collar, his voice harsh. “You’ll stay alive, even barely, until I find the murderer and Tasha wakes up!”