“I’d like Emily Mills to still be alive,” she snapped. “Can you do that? I’d like not to be dragged into a courtroom to testify against everyone I love. I’d really like to have the three thousand dollars I spent on a lawyer for all this back—” “What the fuck, Jodi? Like—Jesus.” His hand raked through his hair. “If you want money, I can give you money.” She flinched, like he’d slapped her. His expression was irritated, quizzical. She waited for him to realize what he’d said, what he’d ignored, but it never happened.
