The little fat boy's mother stared at Lu Qingxin. She raised her eyebrows slightly as she gave her a cold smile.
She walked to the camera, stood there, and smiled sweetly at it.
Some killers could easily be identified by the blood on their hands, but Lu Qingxin was different; she was responsible for the little fat boy's death, but her hands were not stained with her son's blood. At least, that's what the little fat boy's mother thought.
The little light on the camera's lens was blinking slightly, flashing with a bloody hue.
The little fat boy's mother said, "Next, I will lead everyone to witness a fair trial."
Lu Qingxin woke up in a daze an hour later.
She looked at the woman before her with fear in her eyes.
When she woke up, she found that her hands were tied to the armrests of the chair.
She couldn't move at all.
The tips of her hands were pale, and Lu Qingxin's face turned pale.
