I may not have much strength now, but I will fight them on this. They will not ruin my name and dirty it up with lies about murder. I never killed anyone and I will not let them put me away for crimes that I didn’t commit.

A cop starts the car and we slowly pull out onto the gravel road. Snow starts to fall faster and faster and the wipers work hard to keep the windshield clean.

Snowplows typically don’t come down this far into the woods and I wonder if the rest of the police force crowding around my RV will get out before the majority of the blizzard sweeps in.

I sit back against the seat and look at the snowflakes dance outside the window. I’ve never been in jail or prison but I’ve heard the stories about lack of outside time.

Will this be the last time that I see the sky?

Is this the last time that I will see snowflakes as a free man?

As we pull out onto the main highway and head toward the police station, my thoughts return to Olive.

What if she didn’t betray me?

What if they were following her and she led them to me by accident?

I unclench my fists and take a breath.

This time my heart doesn’t feel like it’s splintering into a million different pieces.

Okay, I say to myself. Now what?

I take another breath. Deeper this time. The air flows in and out of my lungs and my body starts to relax even more.

Does this mean…what I want it to mean?

Does this mean that maybe she didn’t really betray me?

Maybe they just followed her?

My body certainly seems to think that, and for a moment I let it. But then the rational part of me takes over. This part doesn’t care much for feelings and emotions. The only thing that matters is the likelihood of something being true. And in this case?

Yes, perhaps the FBI did have their eye on her. But would they have followed her all the way from California?

Would she not have noticed them?

How could they have known that she was coming here? We communicated using burner phones so that our calls were untraceable.

My heart starts to tighten again as the truth comes to the surface. Though it’s definitely a possibility that she just led them here, it’s unlikely. What’s more likely is that Olive knew exactly what she was doing. She had betrayed me, on purpose, probably to get back at me for what I did to her.

The interrogation room is as nondescript and empty of all life as the ones you see on television. There are no windows and only one door.

I expect a two-way mirror but they don’t even have that.