Lauren Sanders is struggling to rebuild her life with her aunt and cousin after her family's tragic death. But what no one knows is the truth about two things: how her parents really died and her battle with schizophrenia.
One day, Lauren stumbles...
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Rain tapped against the window, a melancholic rhythm that matched the turmoil inside me. I sat alone in my room, my textbooks open before me, but my thoughts were a thousand miles away. The bed I occupied had always been my sanctuary, a cocoon of familiarity and comfort.
It had been weeks since I last saw her face on the news—the day she was being escorted out of her own home as she was accused of murder by my own father. People kept talking about her, and her name was slowly being painted with disgust and hatred. It was the people who knew nothing about her, and who she really was.
The muted voices emanating from the living room downstairs pulled at my attention like a magnet. I should have known better than to eavesdrop, but the urge was irresistible. Without knowing, my feet dragged me out of my room as I leaned closer to the railings of the stairs, each muffled word sending shivers down my spine.
"...pre-trial mandatory now?" The voice was unfamiliar, a thread of curiosity woven into its tone.
My father's voice, seasoned and rugged, replied, carrying the weight of a thousand unresolved cases. "Yes, Lauren Sanders has been released from jail. The California Court decided on a pre-trial hearing before proceeding to a full court trial."
Lauren Sanders – a name that had haunted and occupied my thoughts since the day the murders had made headlines. The daughter of the couple whose lives had been snuffed out, and the one accused of wielding the fatal blow. I strained to hear every syllable, my heart racing like a runaway train.
"What's the story looking like, Walters?" The second voice was impatient, demanding answers that perhaps even my father couldn't provide.
My father's voice held a mix of frustration and determination. "It's not as straightforward as it seems, Ledger. We've been dissecting the evidence against Lauren. Her alibi holds up, and there are inconsistencies in the forensics that we can't ignore."
My breath caught in my throat, and I leaned in even closer, as though my proximity to the room below me would unlock the secrets they held. My father, Christopher Walters, was renowned for his keen intuition and unyielding determination. If he harbored doubts about Lauren's guilt, then there had to be something more beneath the surface.
"Something doesn't add up," my father continued, his voice edged with frustration. "I can't shake the feeling that there's more to this case than meets the eye."
The room seemed to spin around me, the world shifting like sand slipping through my fingers. Yet, my father's words hung in the air like a haunting melody, a melody that spoke of doubts and uncertainties.
As the conversation dwindled, I retreated from the railings, my heart pounding like a drumbeat. The rain outside matched the tempest within me, each droplet tapping a question mark against my consciousness. I sank back into my chair, my thoughts a jumbled tapestry of emotions.
Lauren Sanders had been a fixture of my life for months, a presence that had weaved itself into my heart without me even realizing it. I knew that she was more than just the accused murderer, more than the dark figure the media portrayed her to be. And now, with my father's wavering belief in her guilt, the walls of certainty I had erected around her began to slowly crumble.
