Death Row (Alibis Collection, #1)

by Freida McFadden

My dinner consists of a fish patty, which was almost certainly recently frozen (and still sort of is), and a pile of soggy green beans from a can. When I bring my face too close to the plate, the smell turns my stomach.

I’m going to die. In less than two weeks, I will be executed by the state.

I look back one last time at the man in the dark suit. He’s talking to the redheaded inmate, his attention focused on her, but then, just as Rhea is pulling me from the room, he raises his eyes to meet mine. Oh my God. It’s Noel.

“On my life.” He takes another step closer to me. “And you know it’s true, because if I ever did cheat on you, you’d probably kill me.”

So the fact is, I never actually saw Noel’s body and confirmed that it was him. The police told me they used DNA to positively identify his scorched remains, but all I have to go on is what they told me. What if the DNA evidence was wrong?

It’s been a week, and every single time he goes to “work,” he comes back stinking of eau de slut.

I came into my kitchen and smelled gas the way I do now, I would know not to use the oven and possibly to call the fire department.

First midazolam, a sedative. Then vecuronium bromide, which will paralyze my muscles. And last, potassium chloride, which will stop my heart from beating.

Fifteen minutes of torture.