You are a framed murderer. Your supposed ‘victims’ are three adults, two men and a woman. Their deaths were brutal and bloody, each found in a pool of blood. Of course no one believes that you’re innocent, and you’ve used most of your money hiring Clint as your lawyer.

I let out a sigh as I lean back in my chair, staring at the man in front of me. There’s a thick plastic divider between us, and he’s wearing cuffs, but I can’t deny that there’s a flicker of unease in me. Murderer He’s a murderer. And I have to defend him, this impossible case with near zero ways to weasel out of a very possible death sentence. He’s doomed. Now I’m starting to regret taking this case. But it’s fine. An hour and this meeting will be over, and I can puzzle this out at home. “So…” I push my glasses up.