The Wrong Murder

He forced a polite expression. “I wanted to make things up to you. I know I’ve been a jerk. And you deserve better. But just so you know you, I really am sorry; even if you don’t believe me.”

I bit my lip. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say yes.”

I crossed my arms. “To what exactly? It doesn’t require a big leap of faith to eat a meal together.”

A smirk formed on his mouth. “No, you’re mistaken. I have more than dinner planned. I want to go to the lake house this weekend and reconnect.”

My attention returned to the food because I could only begin to wonder if he poisoned the meal.





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