"Involuntary manslaughter barely carries any time. With good behavior, you could be out in two or three years!"
"And don't worry. While you're inside, I'll wait for you. I'll take care of everything at home."
"I'll talk to Mom and Dad, smooth things over. I'll raise the kids like they're my own. All you have to do is confess, and this family stays intact!"
He laid it on thick, every word polished and rehearsed.
In my last life, he'd fed me the exact same lines.
Back then, I'd been so terrified I actually believed it was my fault. I'd thrown myself into making amends — paying compensation, working myself to the bone to clear the debt, raising those two children as if they were my own flesh and blood.
And where did that get me?
I looked at Andrew, my gaze steady and still, and asked him one question.
"Andrew, do you think I'm stupid?"
He froze. It took him a long moment before he managed a response.
"What did you just say?"
"You want me to take the fall so you can waltz off with my house and my savings."
"Then you'll bring your supposedly dead sister-in-law back from the grave, and the whole happy family can reunite."
I locked my eyes onto his and didn't blink.