A deadman's perfume

Harry's face swam in her vision, his sneer etched in her mind like a scar. She saw him standing in a short distance, as Zoey's finger tightened around the trigger. The pain and betrayal came flooding back, and Valerie's voice cracked with emotion.

"You abetted her, Harry," Valerie's voice dropped to a whisper, the words barely audible, but laced with a deep sorrow and accusation. "So what right do you have to speak to me as if you were also a victim?"

The air was electric with tension, Harry's eyes locked on Valerie's, as he struggled to respond to the raw emotion pouring out of her.

Harry's expression faltered, confusion etched on his face. He didn't understand what Valerie meant, but whatever thoughts were swirling in her mind, he knew he was innocent. Yet, he instinctively knew that protesting his innocence would fall on deaf ears. Valerie's eyes had already condemned him, her mind made up. So, he remained silent.