Detective Clark came to visit us one evening, his face more serious than ever. “Mrs. Harper, you are under arrest for the murder of your husband, Mr. Ezekiel Harper,” he said.

"What!?" I exclaimed, standing up from the sofa.

"She wouldn't—I mean, her mother chirped,"

"They loved each other so much," I protested. "She could never do that." I added hastily.

Detective Walter had a very stern look on his face. He didn't say a word as he brought out the handcuffs and asked Emma to stretch out her hand.

"I will be going with her. I am her lawyer," Cynthia said.

We were all still too stunned to speak. I stood there with my mouth wide open as I watched them take her away.

"Why wouldn't she say anything?" I kept asking myself. "Did she do it? How could she? Was it all an act?" The questions wouldn't stop.

"I am coming with her too," I finally said, regaining my composure. If anything, I wanted to be there to witness this firsthand.

"I have been neighbors with this couple for five years, and not a day has gone by where I don't see them doting on each other. So if she killed her husband, I want to know why."

At the Police Station

The ride to the police station was tense and silent. Emma sat in the back of the police car, her face a mask of shock and disbelief. Cynthia, her sister, sat beside her, gripping her hand tightly. I followed in my car, my mind racing with questions and doubts.

At the station, Emma was led into an interrogation room. Detective Clark and Detective Walter entered, their expressions stern and professional. Cynthia and I waited outside, the minutes dragging on painfully.

The Interrogation

Inside the room, Detective Clark began, “Mrs. Harper, we’ve uncovered significant evidence that implicates you in your husband’s murder. Financial records, phone calls, and witness statements suggest you had a motive and opportunity.”

Emma shook her head vehemently. “I didn’t kill Ezekiel. I loved him more than anything. Those withdrawals… he handled all our finances. I didn’t know about them. And the phone calls… I don’t know who they were to.”

Detective Walter leaned forward, his voice low and intense. “We have a witness who saw you arguing with your husband the day before he was killed. Care to explain that?”

Tears welled up in Emma’s eyes. “We argued about moving abroad. I didn’t want to go, but he insisted it was for the best. It was just a normal marital argument. That’s all.”

 Outside the Interrogation Room

As I waited with Cynthia, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. Emma wasn’t capable of murder. She adored Ezekiel. But the evidence… it painted a different picture.

Cynthia looked at me, her eyes filled with worry. “She didn’t do it. I know my sister. She’s not a killer.”

“I know,” I said, trying to reassure her and myself. “But we need to find out what really happened.”

An Unexpected Turn

An unfamiliar face walked into the interrogation room.

"I haven't seen him before," I said to Cynthia.

We stood up and moved toward the room where Emma was.

"Detective Clark, a minute. There's a new update," the unfamiliar face said.

"A woman was found dead this morning by her sister. She left a detailed suicide note confessing to the murder of Ezekiel Harper," the new detective said, handing over a copy of the note.

Detective Clark's face grew more grave as he read the contents. He glanced over at Emma, who was still sitting quietly in the interrogation room, a mix of confusion and hope in her eyes.

Cynthia and I exchanged worried glances, sensing the gravity of the situation.

Detective Clark turned to us and said, "Please wait here. I'll be right back."

We watched as he walked to the other end of the room with the new detective. They spoke in hushed tones, the tension in the room thickening with each passing second.

Inside the Interrogation Room:

Emma shifted uncomfortably in her chair, glancing at the mirrored wall, knowing we were on the other side. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. The door opened, and Detective Clark re-entered, his expression softer than before.

"Mrs. Harper," he began, "we have a significant development in your case. A woman named Marta Williams was found dead this morning. She left a suicide note confessing to your husband's murder."

Emma's eyes widened in shock.

"Marta? Ezekiel's ex-mistress?"

Detective Clark nodded. "Yes.

According to the note, Ezekiel had promised to leave you for her, only to dump her at the last minute.

She followed him home when he went to get his visa, knowing he would be vulnerable. She entered the house and waited until he was in the bathtub, playing music and relaxing. In her despair and anger, she shot him and then went home

to end her own life."

Emma covered her mouth with her hand, tears streaming down her face. "I can't believe it. I had no idea..."

Detective Clark continued, "The note also mentioned that Marta had been to your house several times when you were on night shifts, so she knew her way around. She detailed her actions in her final words, which were found in her journal by her sister."

Outside the Interrogation Room

Cynthia and I stood silently, absorbing the weight of the new information. The new detective approached us, offering a brief explanation.

"We found the journal next to Marta's bed. Her sister brought it to our attention after discovering Marta's body this morning. The details in the journal match the evidence we found at your house."

Cynthia looked at me, her eyes wide with relief and confusion.

"So Emma didn't do it. Marta did."

I nodded slowly, still processing everything. "Yes, it seems so. But why did she think she had to take such drastic measures?"

The Resolution

Detective Clark escorted Emma out of the interrogation room, her handcuffs removed. She looked at us, her face a mix of relief and sorrow.

"You're free to go, Mrs. Harper," Detective Clark said. "We'll continue to investigate the circumstances, but based on the evidence and Marta's confession, you're no longer a suspect."

Emma collapsed into Cynthia's arms, sobbing.

I could he! I could he? she wept profusely

 Emma's Reflection

The next months felt like years, each day a battle between love and betrayal raging within me. I wept for the loss of my husband, mourning not only his death but also the shattered trust that had once bound us together. Learning about his affair was a betrayal I never anticipated, a wound that cut to the core of my being.

On some days, I found solace in memories of the man I once knew, the husband who had showered me with love and affection. But those moments were fleeting, overshadowed by the painful reality of his infidelity. The unanswered question lingered like a specter in the shadows: Why did he do it? Why?

As I grappled with the turmoil of my emotions, forgiveness seemed like an impossible dream, the ache of betrayal gnawed at my heart.

Will I ever forgive him? The question echoed in the depths of my soul.