My Ex-Fiance The Detective Who Arrested Me Chapter 05
The next time I saw Arthur, it was through the glass in
the prison visitation room.
I was the one scheduled to be executed in the morning,
but he looked worse than me.
“Hazel, I was wrong. About everything.”
The phone receiver shook in his hand.
“I’m getting you a lawyer. Let me talk to the DA.
Please.”
I smiled. Shook my head.
“What’s the point, Arthur?”
“I’m going to die tomorrow.”
I didn’t know if it was the word *die* that broke him.
Arthur started shaking his head, fast and frantic, like a
man coming apart.
“No… no…”
“It’s different, Hazel. It’s different now…
“Why didn’t I see it sooner? If I’d caught it earlier,
would we even be here right now?”
Arthur was sobbing, tears streaking his face, his chest
heaving, messy and raw, like a child who’d broken
something he could never fix.
“Hazel, you were right. I’m the one who betrayed you.
All of this is my fault.”
“I won’t let it end like this.”
“Hazel, I’m going to make this right. I swear.‘
The guard called time. Arthur set the receiver down and stumbled out.
The next day, they didn’t take me to the death chamber.
I was sent back to the interrogation room instead.
The same live feed setup. The same screen. The
comments looked as confused as I felt.
[wait what?? isn’t Hazel supposed to be executed
today? why is she back in interrogation?]
[Captain Sterling is her ex right?? is he seriously trying
to get her out of this??]
[NO. absolutely not. justice for the victims!! Hazel is a murderer and she needs to pay. execute her NOW]
Arthur ignored the comments.
He placed the weapon I’d used to stab Clara three years
ago on the table.
A small switchblade.
The same one Arthur had given me for our first anniversary.
I’d laughed at him for it. What kind of guy gives his girlfriend a knife for their anniversary?
But Arthur hadn’t been joking. He’d taken my hand, completely serious.
“I just need to know that when I’m not around, you can keep yourself safe.”
That knife, the one meant to protect me, ended up
buried in my best friend.
And Arthur was the one who put the cuffs on me.
After that, we were done. Completely.
“Hazel, three years ago, this was the knife you used on
Clara. Correct?”
His voice dragged me backward. Three years.
To the moment everything shattered.
That day, I had the maid of honor dress I’d picked out
for Clara in my hands.
I went to her place so she could try it on.
She wasn’t in the study. But I heard something below
the floorboards.
My pulse spiked. I remembered something Arthur
once showed me about hidden spaces.
I found the panel.
It swung open to a staircase leading down.
I pulled the switchblade from my purse and went down
one step at a time.
What I found under Clara’s study was an operating room.
A patient–a man I recognized who’d been pronounced
dead that morning–lay on the table in the center.
His chest had been opened wide.
Clara stood over him with a scalpel, placing his organs
into medical coolers one by one.
She heard me and turned.
Our eyes locked. I couldn’t move.
“Clara… what the hell are you…”
When she saw it was me, Clara peeled off her
bloodstained gloves like it was nothing.
“Hazel, you need to walk away from this.”