The accused and awake
Bella's Point of view
I woke up with a heavy heart. The weight of Sam's accusations and the cryptic text from the night before were suffocating. After freshening up, I slipped into a simple dress and made my way downstairs to the dining area. Sam was already at the table, eating in silence.
"Good morning," I greeted, my voice strained but steady.
He looked up briefly, nodded, and returned to his meal. His response was polite, almost indifferent.
I sat across from him, staring at the plate that Jacob had set in front of me. My appetite was nonexistent, but I knew I needed to gather my strength. As I fiddled with my fork, the tension between us thickened.
"This is the high time I pull out my mind," I thought to myself. If I didn't confront Sam now, I never would.
"Sam," I began, my voice low but firm. "I don't know what you've seen or heard, but my father was not a killer."
