Imogen’s Pov

I was the girl who was a loner, who dreamed of NYU and becoming an attorney to clear my dad’s name.

Not this.

Not a murderer. 

But I wasn’t free.

Not yet.

The metal and the blood— they were all evidence. Evidence that could send me to prison.

I forced myself to stand, my legs wobbly but my mind sharpening. I’d listened to enough crimes’ episodes to know what happened to sloppy killers.

They left fingerprints, blood, witnesses.

They panicked and ran, leaving trails for the police to follow.

I wasn’t going to be one of them.

If I was going to survive this, I had to be...