I'm not lying.
The voice echoed in my ears long after the person who spoke them had vanished.
I'm not lying.
I grimaced, resting my head in my hands as I stared down at the photos and notes scattered on the desk.
I'm not lying.
"But how are you not?" I whisper. "How?" Everything pointed to him being involved. Everything pointed to him lying about the scenario.
So why did his voice still echo in my head.
Why did I believe him?
That he was innocent.
-Inspiration from watching Evil Genius on Netflix
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