The tension was suffocating. The police, the angry mob and my so-called mother’s venomous words surrounded me like a noose tightening around my neck. I could feel the judgment pouring from the live-stream comments, the relentless disdain from the crowd and the burning hatred in their eyes.
"Ms. Ainsley," one of the officers asked, his tone careful but probing, "how many children did you have back then?"
My mother straightened her posture and spat out her answer with venom. "Only one. This one! This filthy, worthless creature!" She jabbed her finger in my direction as if her words weren’t clear enough.
The officer frowned, skeptical. "So, you're sure she doesn't have a twin sister or any siblings?"
"I gave birth to her!" she snapped. "And I know her! She’s clever and manipulative. It’s no mystery—she bombed that school! Why else would we be here? Just arrest her already and sentence her to death!"
Her words stung, but what struck me more was the growing discomfort on the faces of the police officers.
Dr. Richard stepped forward, his usually calm demeanor replaced with irritation. "Is there a mother like you anywhere else in this world? She’s your own daughter! How can you speak of her like this? Where is your compassion?"
My mother turned to him with a derisive laugh, scanning him from head to toe before sneering, "Ah, now it makes sense! No wonder she’s trying to weasel her way out. She’s been cozying up to you, hasn’t she? You’re in on this, aren’t you? Helping her escape while she bombs schools? You disgust me!"
Dr. Richard’s face turned red with both anger and shame. "Ms. Ainsley, I’m not going to stoop to your level, but listen carefully: say what you want about me, but this is your daughter! She’s still just a girl. If even her own mother talks about her like this, what kind of future does she have left?"
My mother rolled her eyes, dismissing him with a wave. "A future? A bitch like her doesn’t deserve a future!"
***
The scene was spiraling out of control, but the lead officer’s sharp eyes were fixed on my mother. Her erratic behavior wasn’t just unsettling—it was suspicious.
He motioned for one of his colleagues to investigate further. "Go to the hospital where Ms. Ainsley gave birth. Find out exactly what happened."
My mother’s face twisted with rage. "What is this? You think I don’t know how many children I gave birth to? I carried her for nine months! Why are you wasting time investigating me? Arrest her!"
But her outburst only deepened the growing doubt in everyone’s minds. The crowd, initially so sure of my guilt, began to murmur amongst themselves.
***
Just as the tension reached a boiling point, another officer rushed back onto the scene, his face alight with urgency.
"We found something!" he announced, waving a document in the air. "The Technical Inspection Division just recovered a fingerprint from the crime scene. We matched it against Jennie’s and it’s an exact match."
The crowd erupted. Rage, shock and betrayal painted their faces.
Dr. Richard, who had been my sole defender moments ago, now looked at me with disappointment etched deep in his features. "So it’s true?" he said quietly. "No wonder even your own mother scolded you. I thought… I thought you were innocent."
Agnes, ever the opportunist, stepped forward with mock sympathy. "Jennie, there’s no use pretending anymore. Just confess. Maybe, just maybe, the judge will take pity on you."
The school principal’s grief was palpable. His voice trembled as he roared, "If the judge spares her, then who will bring my son back? Who?"
Their accusations crashed over me like waves, but my mind was racing. A fingerprint? How? My hands were shaking, my throat dry. Someone was framing me, but how did they pull it off so flawlessly?
***
Just as the mob’s fury reached its peak, the sound of a car engine cut through the chaos. Slowly, a sleek black Maybach rolled into view, its polished exterior gleaming under the sun.
