Death Row (Alibis Collection, #1)

by Freida McFadden

I read somewhere that the state pays less than fifty cents per meal for each prisoner. When I look down at my tray, I believe it.

How could anyone think that I killed Noel? I had no motive—he was the love of my life. And most of all, I have an alibi. Yet here I am, about to be executed for his murder. And the worst part of it all is how much I miss him.

Because somehow, I sense there’s something special about Noel Kemper, who made me smile for the first time since that asshole broke my heart.

Thank God the prison has these shackles and glass to protect the rest of the world from me.

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.

I toss my ruined chicken on the kitchen table, even though what I really want to do is throw it at his head.

Noel has lost his sense of smell, but I haven’t, and I am very aware that he reeks of another woman’s perfume.

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

If 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. Noel wouldn’t know, though.

“I didn’t do it.” My voice slurs on the words. “I didn’t kill my husband. I’m innocent.” Albert is quiet for a moment, his fingers frozen on the syringe that will paralyze my muscles. He exchanges looks with Rhea and then lets out a deep sigh. “Yes,” he says, “we know.”