If you’re watching this, you’re out.”
He paused, swallowing.
“I’m proud of you.”
That one sentence nearly broke me.
Then his voice hardened—not cruel, just firm.
“I need you to listen carefully. This is going to hurt. But it’s the kind of hurt that finally makes sense.”
He leaned closer to the camera.
“The night you got arrested,” he said, “you didn’t do what they said you did.”
My stomach dropped.
“I didn’t know that at first,” he admitted. “I believed the police. I believed the paperwork. And I believed
