Confessions of a Murder Suspect

72

I’m going to apologize to you, friend—with a true heart. I’m getting better at that, aren’t I?

I just want to say that I’m sorry if I’ve been confusing you. I don’t mean to; it’s just that I’m confused myself. And if I could ask a favor, please? I need you to help me understand my own story, even if it takes a little time. Or a long time.

Okay. Now that I know you’re on my side, I think I can go on.

I uncrumpled the paper and smoothed it out over and over again, almost as if I were stroking the mysterious face of James Rampling, hoping it would tell me something.

For countless minutes, I didn’t even read the article. I just felt myself fall deeper and deeper into those eyes.

Slowly, hypnotically, they took me back to the night of the party.