What do I remember? She thought, panic rising in her throat. What should I tell them? She clenched her fists beneath the table, her nails digging into her palms. She didn’t remember anything from Daphne’s life, but she had to tell them, at least something.
The truth was a nightmare she couldn’t escape. The images always flashing before her eyes—her husband's cold smile, her best friend’s cruel laughter. Their hands, pushing her, shoving her onto the street as a truck hurtled toward her. The sound of screeching tires and the searing pain that followed. The betrayal burned as deeply as the memory of the impact.
They let her die!