[2022 Wattys Shortlist] [2023 Wattpad Editors' Choice] Melissa Hale, daughter of Senator Hale, was murdered. Christopher Williams, one of her classmates at NYU, is being framed for it.
Isabela Leon, a young lawyer working at one of the top law firms...
Saturdays are my favorite. On Saturdays, I get to wear sneakers. After wearing nothing but stilettos all week, my feet feel weird when they're not suffering.
Maná, the Mexican pop-rock band that my dad used to listen to, plays loudly on my AirPods; I dance my way to the kitchen, yelling the words to Mariposa Traicionera, my favorite song from them, and pour a bit of coffee into a mug. When I turn around and my eyes land on the muted TV screen, I almost drop it. I turn the music off and turn the volume of the TV on.
"Business magnate Barton Newman was found dead in his house early this morning," the news reporter says as I try to swallow the knot in my throat. "His only son, Wesley Newman was arrested for his murder. We expect to have more information later tonight."
I sit on the sofa, still trying to assimilate what I just heard. Wesley's face is still there, his familiar grin and his electric blue eyes jump through the screen.
It takes me a few minutes to feel like I can breathe again and when I do, I jump up, looking at my watch. I'm late. I take my gray coat and my purse and run downstairs to my car. Today, just like almost every other Saturday since I got Chris' case, I'll drive for an hour to Rikers Island Prison.
I try not to think of Wesley, but his face keeps popping into my head. He was the first person to approach me at Columbia. There's something about guys like him that just make you feel comfortable around them almost immediately, as if you have known them your whole life. For a long time, he was my only friend in the city.
Until the New Year's party he threw at his apartment, where we ended up hooking up. For a few weeks, we thought we could be something more, but in the end, we decided to stay just friends. I met his father once, at a charity event Wesley invited me to. I just can't believe someone killed the man. And I seriously cannot believe Wesley is the main suspect. I mean, he's been arrested. They must have pretty solid evidence against him, right?
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Mm-hmm," Chris takes a sip of his coffee and closes his eyes, "you know, if seasons had a flavor, this is what fall would taste like."
I struggled to get the two coffees inside since drinks and food are strictly prohibited during prison visits but, as Lawrence always says, where there's a will, there's a way. Or someone ready to take a few Abraham Lincolns to make the way, if you know what I mean. So, here it is, Chris' first pumpkin spice latte in what, according to him, feels like a lifetime.
"So, tell me, Chris. How exactly did you meet Melissa?"
"Haven't we been over this like a hundred times already?" He looks at me annoyed.
"We have, but I need more. I need details. Everything is important, even the littlest of things that might seem insignificant."
"Okay," he sets his coffee aside and leans in, interlacing his fingers in front of him, imitating Jasper's usual posture. "I met Melissa at NYU. We were both majoring in English."
