With every second that passed, I grew colder and colder. This was really happening. My life had been barreling toward this for months, but I’d ignored it. Corrigan had warned me. Show up at the scene of too many murders, and eventually, someone is going to think you’re a murderer. By the time Corrigan left the scene and came to talk to me in the interrogation room, I was frozen solid, a block of ice.
