Chapter 2

The cold metal of the handcuffs bit into Sarah's wrists.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head, her eyes still fixed on the spot where Lily had lain. "No, I didn't. I wouldn't."

Her voice was barely audible, lost in the sterile hum of the police station.

Officer Ramirez read her rights, the words a meaningless drone.

David, her husband, stood a few feet away, his face buried in his hands. When he finally looked up, his eyes were red-rimmed, but filled with an accusation that cut Sarah deeper than any physical blow.

"How could you, Sarah?" he choked out, his voice thick with grief and condemnation. "Our Lily... after everything... your... your sickness..."

Her past. Her severe postpartum depression after Lily's birth. It was a dark period, one she thought she had overcome, one she rarely spoke of. Now, it was being dragged into the light as a weapon against her.

The news spread like wildfire. "Suburban Mother Snaps, Murders Daughter." Leaked snippets of the grainy footage, carefully edited, played on a loop on every news channel. Her face, contorted in the initial shock and horror at the community center, was plastered everywhere, captioned with damning headlines.

Public vilification was swift and brutal.

Then came Mr. Henderson, the unassuming, elderly janitor from the community center. He was brought in to give a statement.

Sarah remembered him vaguely, a quiet man who always seemed to be sweeping or polishing something.

His testimony was a nail in her coffin.

"Yes, I saw her," Mr. Henderson said, his voice soft but firm, his gaze downcast. "Mrs. Miller. She came in with the little girl. She was acting... strange. Agitated."

He paused, as if gathering his thoughts.

"She was carrying a large bag, looked heavy. And... and she was harsh with Lily. I heard her snap at the child, something about a craft. It wasn't like her usual self."

Detective Harding leaned forward. "Did you see anything else, Mr. Henderson?"

"Just before Ms. Evans screamed," Henderson continued, his voice barely above a whisper, "I thought I saw Mrs. Miller... near Lily... and then Ms. Evans ran out. I... I went in. Mrs. Miller was just standing there. Over Lily."

It was a lie. All of it. Sarah hadn't brought a large bag. She hadn't been aggressive. She had been in the room only after Jessica screamed.

But Henderson's quiet, seemingly reluctant testimony painted a damning picture. An unstable mother, acting erratically, then caught red-handed.

The weight of it all pressed down on Sarah, crushing her. The evidence, David's condemnation, the public hatred, Henderson's lies.

She was trapped. Isolated. Helpless.

Despair began to eat away at her.