She ran frantically with bloodied hands and tears dripping down her cheeks, screaming for help.
She didn’t mean to kill him, she loved him. But he had been bad to her, very bad. He had done things she couldn’t speak about.
She told the police about what she had done and how it had happened, but no one bothered to find out the real victim here.
And now, there she was, in an orange jumpsuit, behind the bars.
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