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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My laptop hummed softly, casting a pale glow on my face. My fingers danced over the keyboard as I scoured the internet for any information about Lauren. I couldn't help but read the articles I stumbled upon after the other day's trial. I knew that they were not the kind of stories I wanted to read, but I still read them anyway.
Every major news outlet had a different take on the case about the trial that was held, and none of them painted a flattering picture of her. As I scrolled through the articles, I felt a growing sense of frustration and anger. They all seemed to depict her as a cold-blooded killer, a monster in disguise.
I clenched my fists, feeling my anger bubble up inside me. How could they judge her based on sensationalized headlines and half-baked theories? I knew there had to be more to the story, something hidden beneath the surface.
Just then, I heard my father's voice from the adjacent room, talking in hushed tones on the phone. I strained to listen, trying to make out the words.
"Yes, I've been assigned to the cold case," my father said, his voice filled with a sense of purpose. "I'll do my best to get to the bottom of it."
My heart skipped a beat. My father was talking about Lauren's trial, and instantly, my mind raced with possibilities. Maybe he had information that could help clear her name, despite his accusation.
"I'll talk to her doctor, and maybe gather some evidence from the hospital later," my father continued, "and I'll be looking into the art curator, Bill. He might know more than he's letting on."
Bill. The name sent a shiver down my spine. I knew I'd seen his name multiple times when I searched the internet—him being mentioned in some of the articles I had read, but I never really took much notice of that.
I listened intently as my father discussed the case further. He mentioned digging into Bill's background, and I knew I had to act quickly if I wanted to find out more. With my father occupied on the phone as he made his way down the stairs, this was my chance.
I closed my laptop and crept out of my room, tiptoeing down the hallway to their bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, and I slipped inside, my heart pounding in my chest. The table in their room was filled with old case files and evidence bags, a testament to my father's long career in law enforcement.
I went straight for the evidence from the hospital, searching for any clues that might help Lauren's case. I found a thick file labeled "Sanders Case" and opened it carefully. Inside, there were medical reports, photographs, and witness statements. It was a different set of files from the one I previously looked at.
My eyes darted across the pages, and I discovered something that sent a shockwave through me. There was a report about Bill, the elusive art curator. It revealed a dark side of him that had never been publicized. Bill had a history of being an abusive husband to his ex-wife, Linda. There were police reports and testimonies from neighbors attesting to the violence that had plagued their marriage.
