I Wasn’t The Killer

“Estella.” I turned to her, anger flickering under my ribs. “Enough. Don’t speak about Hazel that way. Keep her out of your madness.”

“No, it’s not enough!” she snapped. “You owe her the truth. You owe me the truth. What happened that morning? Why did my sister leave that house? Why was she driving alone when she was terrified of the highway?”

I stared at her, unable to breathe for a second.

“You