“I told you to watch your words,” he roared. “Has no one taught you manners since your mother died? You encouraged Sofia to pour alcohol into Roxanne’s skincare products. You knew she’s allergic. How could you be so cruel? And now you’re dragging your own child into this mess?”
Rage surged through me. “Sofia is five years old,” I shot back. “Do you think she even understands what alcohol is? It has a strong odor. It evaporates quickly. Anyone would notice. Yet she applied it to her own skin. And you believe this nonsense?”
He shouted over me. “Only Sofia went into Roxanne’s room. There were no servants in the house. If not her, then who? The security footage shows everything clearly. Stop denying it. After I finish questioning you, I’ll hand you both over to the police if I have to. Now bring Sofia out.”
His voice echoed in the small apartment.
He was demanding to see a child who was already ashes in my arms.
I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt and forced the words out. “You keep talking about surveillance. Then show it to me. I won’t stand here and let anyone drag my daughter’s name through the mud.”