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An admission of guilt to explain away my shifty behaviour, but not something that will land me in hot water.
snatched up a knife from the block beside the sink and has plunged it into Cal’s chest. Cal lets out an anguished roar. His chair crashes to the floor as he lurches to his feet, face contorted in rage and pain. Blood blossoms across his shirt as he staggers towards her. It’s not his chest.
niggle
‘Mary, we’ve been over this. You’ve been having delusions. Your brain has conjured up this entire story. Paintin’ your husband as a monster when in reality all he’s been doing is tryin’ te help you. The pregnancy. The baby. It’s all part of a traumatic stress reaction to what really happened to ye. What your parents did to ye that made you leave and go off grid with your husband in the first place.’
Cal’s insanity is futile, that if I insist my original story of my escape from a madman is true I’ll never see the outside
She must be working with Cal. It’s the only explanation that makes sense.
monolith
resolve.
found in courtrooms or in the pages of law books, but raw and primal.

