20. Hospital

“Where were you between eleven pm last night and six am this morning, Ms. Montogomery?” the detective asks, tapping his chin with his pen.

My fingers tap into the glass table, anxiety tightening my chest. Je vas bien. “Home.” Because the truth would be much harder to say. “If there’s nothing else, I would very much like to return to my meeting, Detective.”

Skeptical blue eyes meet mine. “You were observed on surveillance leaving at fifteen minutes past three in a red Aston Martin, with an unidentifiable man.” He folds his arms and leans back in my chair like he has no where else to be. “I'd urge you to be forthcoming, miss, as lying will only complicate matters. Now, can you provide information on the identity of the man, his contact details, or his place of residence.”

Well, shoot.

I smile diplomatically. “I could’ve gone on a joyride with my boyfriend for all you know. There’s no proof I did any such thing. Plus, you must not be very