He was lying
“I didn’t steal, sir,” I said calmly, keeping my composure. “May I see your evidence?” Lucas, the officer, chuckled softly, his fingers drumming rhythmically on the steering wheel. “I caught you in the act,” he replied with unwavering confidence. “And there were witnesses too.” I studied his expression carefully, noting the conviction in his tone. How could he truly believe this absurdity? The accusation was baffling, and I struggled to understand how a simple grocery run had spiraled into this surreal nightmare.
He Was Lying
Arriving at the station
Fortunately, the station wasn’t far, and the thought of Davis, my husband, waiting there offered a small sense of relief. Lucas opened the car door and gestured for me to step out, his stern demeanor making me feel less like an ordinary woman running errands and more like a wanted criminal. The neighborhood buzzed with quiet curiosity, every glance piercing as Lucas escorted me inside. My throat tightened as I braced for the inevitable storm that would erupt once Davis learned about this mess.
Arriving At The Station
