Part 6
In early autumn, leaves fell all over the yard. I was sitting under the tree listening to music when a few beeping vibrations came from my phone.
After answering the phone, I was first surprised and then filled with confusion. Since I was discharged, I had been staying at home and had never left. I was a bit surprised when I received a call from the police.
They said that half a month ago, I hit someone while driving at a highway intersection and even dumped the body. They said they wanted me to go over to find out the situation.
At first, I thought it was a scam phone call and from their words, I only regarded them as scammers. Until the police approached the door, followed by Theo and Axel.
I found out that it was Karen who hit someone with her car and she was so scared that she called them. Dumping the body was the idea of Theo and Axel.
After settling down, they fabricated false evidence again and now all the evidence indicated that I did it. But I had long since lost my hands, not to mention that all the traces of my life have been witnessed. Despite this, when only Axel, Theo and I were left, they began to threaten me morally.
Theo half–knelt in front of me and whispered, “Alice, you said you would repay me,
I don’t want your repayment, I just want you to plead guilty.”
pairingly stared at Theo, shaking my head repeatedly. “Have you forgotten? Who Was it that donated bone marrow to you when you had leukemia?”
Seeing that I was unwilling to take the blame, Theo just shook his head.
disappointingly at me. “Back then, should I have really listened to myself? I shouldn’t have brought you home.”
With that said, Theo turned his back on me, his voice cold. “Since you’re unwilling, don’t blame your brother for being ruthless.”
I didn’t understand what he meant by being ruthless. It wasn’t until the day of the court hearing, when I stood at the defendant’s stand.
Theo brought my father, who suffered from mental illness, to the court and at that moment, he was sober. When the judge questioned him, my father pointed at me and said slowly, “Your Honor, this is a recording of my daughter hitting someone with her
car.”
My tears fell one by one. This recording was clearly a week ago when I went to visit him and happened to catch up with his illness. I was merely consoling him then, but now he had forgotten, unwittingly pushing me into the depths of despair.
At the moment the gavel/struck the table, my guilt was established. I was sentenced to death with a two–year reprieve.
After the verdict was announced, I shouted desperately at them, “Theo, I’m your own
Part 6
sister and yet you could still do this.”
But their response was only their unnaturally indifferent faces.
I was sentenced to death. The ones who escorted me in were my fiancé and my own brother.
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