Annabel's POV

"A body?"

The words echoed inside my head. I stared at the officer, convinced I'd heard him wrong.

"What... what did you say?"

The officer standing beside me pressed a hand against my shoulder.

"Ma'am, I need you to stay here."

"No."

I shoved his hand away and stumbled out of the bathroom.

"Ma'am!"

"I said no!"

My bare feet slapped against the polished wooden floor as I ran downstairs. The officers called after me, but I ignored them.

Anthony couldn't be dead... He couldn't!

He had been standing outside that bathroom door less than a minute ago. He had spoken to me. He had...

My thoughts came to an abrupt halt as I reached the bottom of the staircase.

Blood...

There was blood everywhere. Red stained the white marble floor like spilled paint. Broken glass glittered beneath the crystal chandelier. One of the paintings had fallen from the wall.

Another officer noticed me and immediately stepped in front of my path.

"Mrs. Smith, don't look."

Too late... I had already seen the body.

A man lay face down in a pool of blood, his black suit soaked crimson.

My knees buckled. Anthony...

"Oh my God..."

The room spun violently. An officer caught me before I hit the floor.

"I've got her!"

Someone guided me to the sofa. Someone else handed me a bottle of water.

I couldn't hear what they were saying. I couldn't hear anything except the sound of my own heartbeat.

Anthony was dead! The man who had tried to kill me only moments ago... Was dead?

How?

One of the officers approached me carefully.

"Mrs. Smith, I know this is difficult, but I need you to answer a few questions."

I nodded weakly.

"Did your husband threaten you tonight?"

"Yes."

"Did he fire his weapon?"

"Yes."

"Did you see what happened downstairs?"

I shook my head.

"I was locked in the bathroom."

He scribbled something into his notebook.

"Did anyone else enter the house tonight?"

"No."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes."

He exchanged a brief glance with another detective. Something about that look made my stomach tighten. It wasn't sympathy, it was suspicion.

The detective closed his notebook.

"Mrs. Smith..."

His voice had changed, it was colder now.

"When our officers entered the house, your husband wasn't holding a gun."

I frowned.

"What?"

"The weapon was found approximately three metres away from the body."

"That... that doesn't make any sense."

He continued as though I hadn't spoken.

"The fatal wound wasn't caused by a firearm."

I blinked.

"I'm sorry?"

"He was stabbed."

Every drop of colour drained from my face. Stabbed? No... No, that wasn't possible. Anthony had been outside the bathroom with a gun. I had heard it... I had heard the shots.

The detective watched my reaction carefully.

"Mrs. Smith, can you tell me where the kitchen knives are kept?"

I looked up at him.

"What?"

"The knife used in the attack appears to belong to this house."

My chest tightened.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Your fingerprints are all over the kitchen."

"I live here!"

"I understand."

His expression remained unreadable.

"But we haven't found anyone else in the house."

A horrible feeling settled over me. They weren't questioning me anymore, they were building a case.

"I didn't kill my husband."

No one answered. The silence told me all I needed to know. I looked around the room, every officer avoided my eyes... every single one... as if they had already decided, as if I were no longer the terrified woman who had called 911.

I was now the prime suspect...

The detective reached into his pocket and pulled out a small transparent evidence bag, inside it was my wedding ring. I stared at it in confusion.

"I... I lost that yesterday."

"We found it underneath your husband's body."

The world tilted beneath my feet. I had no idea how it got there. But of course, someone did. Someone wanted it there.

The detective took a slow step towards me.

"Mrs. Smith..."

He pulled a pair of handcuffs from his belt.

"...you're under arrest for the murder of Anthony Smith."