table, a picture of fragile composure. Across from her, Hays, Kasey, and Melissa formed a tight,

. You all have different stories. My officers' bodycams were active during the ca

ays's lawyer, who, after a quick, whispered conference with his clients, rel

aptop to a projector, and

ng. The audio was clear: "NYPD! Anyone in here?" The footage showed them mo

all made everyone

and terror. The room was a mess of discarded clothing. The video was grainy, but the intimac

table, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the small room. He glared

this your 'mis

Webster... it's not

g. "Oh? I'd love to hear it. What kind of surpr

ng in the air,

age is timestamped and authentic." He drov

ssa shrieked, pointing a trembling finger at the scr

e stare

, new lie. "She did this! She put something in the diffuser.

sting into fresh tears. "Yes, Daddy! The smell... it mad

, nodded vigorously. "That's it! It has t

pointing their collective finger at Cordelia. Harrison's anger faltered

en look surprised. A small, almost amuse

eam to retrieve that diffuser from the penthouse? It's a designer model from France

sand dollars, and the oil is a custom organic blend. If a lab finds a single trace of any

lissa's, Kasey's, and Hays's faces. They knew exactly what was

They had underestimated her. They thought they were playing checkers with the same old, emotiona

them for what they were: pathetic, manipulative liars. Harrison's face contorted, the initial ange

And she knew, as she watched their crumbling fac