Chapter 3 Chapter 3

Roman left shortly after telling me he was sleeping in the children's room that night because I seemed to need some space.

Once he disappeared upstairs with Blossom, I ran my hands through my hair, my eyes burning with tears, but I refused to let any fall. Instead, I made my way to the wine cellar. I didn't bother looking for a glass. I picked up a bottle and started drinking straight from it.

By the time I reached my fourth bottle, I was laughing to myself, replaying everything that had happened as though I had completely lost my mind.

I had killed that woman, and it wasn't entirely my fault. If Roman hadn't cheated on me with her, I wouldn't have gone to her apartment in the first place.

At some point, I fell asleep in the cellar without even realizing it.

It was only when I heard my husband's voice that I realized morning had come.

“Oh my God, are you all right?”

He held out his hand, and I took it, blinking as I adjusted my eyes to the light.

“You need to go shower. How many bottles did you have?” he asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

That was how Roman had always been.

One minute, he was completely nonchalant, and the next, he was the most loving husband in the world.

“Three, four...” I wasn't even sure anymore.

“It's all right.” He gently fixed my hair. “Maria is here, so you can shower, and the driver will drop you off at the station.”

“Do I really need to go?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I was terrified.

“Yes. You have to cooperate. Tell them it was an accident, and I'll find you the best lawyer, okay?”

“What if they arrest me?” My voice trembled. “I don't want to go to prison, Roman. Blossom is still so young.”

“Listen to me.”

He turned me toward him and looked straight into my eyes.

“I won't let that happen, okay? Trust me.”

I hesitated.

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do. I trust you.”

“Then take a shower, go to the station, tell them it was an accident, and that's all, okay?”

“Okay.” I nodded.

He kissed my forehead, and I walked into the bathroom. I stripped off my clothes and stepped beneath the shower, letting the warm water run over me.

I only took ten minutes.

Once I was done, I dressed in my usual mom clothes because I wanted them to see that I was just a regular person, a mother of three. Of course I would never intentionally hurt someone. I gave life; I don't take it.

Roman was gone when I stepped out.

I picked up my purse, and just as I was about to leave, my phone rang.

It was Roman.

“If you need me, call me, okay?”

“Okay.”

We hung up, and I headed downstairs, careful not to let the children see me. If Blossom saw me leaving, she would insist on coming with me. Luckily, it was the weekend, so the boys didn't have school either.

“Mrs. Garcia.”

The driver already had the door open for me.

I got into the back seat, and soon we were on the road. My heart pounded the entire way, and I kept biting my nails because I was so nervous.

What was going to happen when this made the news?

Was everyone going to look at me differently?

What would my excuse even be?

‘She slept with my husband, so I killed her.’

Would that be enough?

I didn't think so.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't realize we had arrived at the station until the driver reminded me.

I stepped out and walked inside, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it was sitting in my hands.

“Yes, this way.”

A guard led me toward an interrogation room. I didn't even need to explain who I was. They were clearly expecting me.

I spent almost an hour sitting alone, waiting for the officer who was supposed to question me. I tapped my feet against the floor, bit at my manicured nails, and flinched at the slightest sound. At one point, I even recoiled when I felt what seemed like a hand touching my shoulder, only to realize it was nothing but my imagination.

Finally, a broad-shouldered man walked into the room. He was very tall and muscular, dressed casually, with white-dyed hair and a gray beard. If he wasn't in his forties like Roman, then he had to be in his early fifties.

“Good morning, Mrs. Garcia. My name is Detective Leonardo. I'm the one leading the case.”

He introduced himself, and I nodded, my fingers digging into my palms.

“I'm told you and your husband share three children,” he said with a polite smile.

“Y-yes. Twins and a girl.”

“Wow. How old is the girl?”

He sounded genuinely interested, but I knew he was only trying to make me relax.

“Almost two.”

“Months?”

“Years. Almost two years.”

“Nice.”

He sat down across from me.

“Would you like some water?”

I shook my head.

“All right. I'll just ask you a few questions, and you give me your answers. Ready?”

I nodded again.

“Okay. Walk me through what happened at Ms. Elise's apartment. What happened exactly, and what led to you stabbing her in the chest?”

“She was sleeping with my husband.”

“Okay. So your motive was to kill her?”

“No. It was an accident. I didn't mean to.”

“Mrs. Garcia, the knife wounds found on Ms. Elise were five in number. That can't be an accident.”

“Knife wounds?” I stared at him. “I didn't stab her. She fell and hit her head on the table.”

What was he talking about?

Leonardo reached into an envelope and pulled out several photographs before placing them in front of me.

I stared at the first one.

It was supposedly the murder weapon—a huge kitchen knife.

Then came the photograph of Elise lying on the floor of her apartment. Her robe had been pulled slightly aside, exposing her chest, where a deep wound was visible.

I covered my mouth.

I hadn't stabbed her.

I didn't do that.

But then… who did?

Because when I left that apartment, she was already dead. Yes, she was dead, but the only wound I had seen was the one on her head.

So what was going on here?