My Mother Was Sentenced to Death—Then My 8-Year-Old Brother Revealed the Truth

PART 5

For several seconds, I couldn’t understand what my mother had just said.

My father came to the prison.

Six years ago.

But the entire town had watched his funeral.

I had stood beside his coffin.

I had watched them lower it into the ground.

I had watched my mother being sentenced for killing a man who might not even have been my father.

“No,” I whispered.

My mother squeezed my hand.

“I know how it sounds.”

“Mom…”

“I didn’t believe it either.”

Agent Shaw was still kneeling beside the unconscious gunman in the hallway. Two agents were checking my mother’s wound while another secured the doors.

But I couldn’t look away from her.

“What happened?” I asked.

My mother closed her eyes.

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