Tell me little lies

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"I know, because the girl was Harriet."

She laughed again. "Very very good indeed. And here I was, not giving you credit. Perhaps you are smarter than the average person would think. But, dear girl, how did you know?"

I shook my head in defeat. "I just did. It wasn't something I just magically found out one day. It wasn't something I thought up and was just going to accuse her of. I think I knew from the first day that I met her. Something was off from the moment I met her. I just couldn't place my finger on what that was. But deep inside, I never let that feeling go. And that one feeling, Harriet, is what led me here, standing in front of you, today. Because I knew how much you hated your husband. It was evident."

"From the way that you dodged our questions about him, to the defensive stance you took when we left. I have to admit, contacting my boss was smart, but then I guess you knew we'd come back. You know that Sloane is in the hospital right now, right?"

She went pale as I said this. She immediately met my eyes with hers. "She is?"

I nodded my head. "So I'm assuming you weren't behind that. I wasn't so sure about that one."

"No, honest I didn't. I have no idea who would have done that. That I am being honest about. Which, comes to my next point. In the spirit of being honest, you're going to die today anyways, so it doesn't matter if I tell you or if you don't. But I'm feeling generous today. Call it a hunch. The truth is, yes, I did kill my husband. I shot him in cold blood. I stared that motherfucker in the face, and I shot him. I knew he was up to no good as soon as I married him. He has a history of cheating, by the way. That wasn't his first time, and it wasn't going to be his last. Not until I took matters into my own hands, that is. "

"I spit in his face, and I closed his eyes. He's in the basement right now, if you're wondering where I hid him. He's in a garbage can that you and your little friend just so happened to walk right pas the last time you were here. And the other interviewers? They're in the trunk of my car. I like to smell them while I drive."

This comment made my stomach lurch and I had an instant feeling like I was going to throw up. But I held it together. I'm not sure if it was the way that she said it, or if it was just the wording that she chose for her specific sentence, but whichever it was, it didn't matter. If her intention was to make me feel sick to my stomach, congratulations Harriet, it worked.

She could sense that this made me feel sick, and she laughed that evil laugh again, ringing in my ears.

"And now, with that all having been said, you have my confession, and Sloane's. It's a shame she couldn't tell you herself. But again, Rome wasn't made in one day."

It was my turn to smile now.

This made her scowl again, and look on as if I had just insulted her in 5 different languages. "You want to know the best part about this? Sloane kept that child. She lives with her mother, away from here. She told me the first day I met her. I just wasn't going to say anything because that's her personal business and not mine. She's three."

This was the tipping point for Harriet. She decided she was done talking, and instead started to charge up the stairs at me. But I was ready. I let her get all of about 5 feet away before I booked it in the direction she was coming from, going under her arm and darting down towards the front door. I picked up the box with her deed to the house in it, and I booked it. I could hear her chasing me, staggered breathing and all. But I pressed on. I made it halfway down the yard when to my horror I heard gunshots, one whizzing past my ear. I immediately started sprinting faster. And then I heard it. The engine of a car. It was coming down the road. But it wasn't just any car. It was Sloane's car. I recognized it anywhere.

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