Chapter 294

"Let go of me," I demanded, trying to pry my wrist from Mr. Fitzgerald's firm grip, my voice trembling with a mix of fear and defiance.

His grip tightened, cutting off my words, and his voice was low and venomous. "You. Stay away from my daughter."

The weight of his words hit me like a sledgehammer. I tried to pull away, but his hold remained unyielding, his gaze unwavering and full of warning.

"I-I don't understand," I managed to utter.

"You've caused enough trouble," he continued, his voice laced with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. "I won't have you disrupting my family any further."

"Mr. Fitzgerald, please," I pleaded, my voice tinged with desperation. "I just want to—"

"Stop shoving your nose where it doesn't belong, young lady!" His gaze bore into mine, his expression hardened with resolve.

Before I could muster a response, Timothy stepped forward and stood in between us. He reached out and pried Mr. Fitzgerald’s hand away from my wrist as he looked him in the eye.

"Mr. Fitzgerald, I’m going to ask you kindly to back away from her," Timothy interjected, his voice calm but resolute. “Right now.”

The tension crackled in the air as Mr. Fitzgerald turned his attention to Timothy, his gaze seething with disdain. "And who are you to tell me what to do, huh?"

Timothy's expression hardened, a flicker of defiance in his eyes. "Do you really want to find out?"

“Did he just threaten him?” I heard someone whisper.

The exchange between them escalated, the tension mounting with each passing moment. The families surrounding us grew restless, the simmering conflict drawing curious glances and whispers.

To my surprise, Scarlett emerged from the crowd, her eyes ablaze. Before I could approach her, she lashed out unexpectedly, her hand connecting with Timothy's cheek in a swift, stinging slap.

A gasp rippled through the onlookers as Scarlett jammed a finger into his chest. "You betrayed her, and now you've killed her!"

The shock of the accusation froze me in place. Timothy's expression wavered between hurt and disbelief, his gaze locked with Scarlett's.

“S-Scarlett, please…”

“No!” She slapped his chest, making him stagger backward. I tried to getting in between them, even as her strikes came upon me as well. “I can’t believe you had the nerve to show your face here!”

"Scarlett, please, you have to listen," I implored, my voice tinged with desperation.

Her eyes bore into mine, brimming with tears. "I thought we were friends, Evie. How could you continue to associate yourself with a killer?"

The accusation sliced through me like a knife, leaving me feeling defenseless and shattered. My attempts to reason with her fell on deaf ears.

"Alright, everyone, break it up!" one of the officers barked, storming toward us finally.

Timothy and I reluctantly stepped back, creating as much distance as possible from the Fitzgeralds.

"Keep it moving people. This is supposed to be a funeral," the officer said, his gaze shifting from face to face.

Scarlett stepped forward, her anger still smoldering. "They're defending a murderer! My sister's murderer!"

The officer raised an eyebrow, a stern expression etched on his face. "Calm down, ma’am. We're here to maintain order and investigate. If you have information, we'll take it into account."

Scarlett shot a disdainful look at Timothy. "You should be arresting him. He killed my sister!"

"We're looking into all the facts, ma’am," he interjected, raising his hands. "Now, we need everyone to cooperate and keep the peace for now."

As the officers attempted to restore order, the crowd murmured, exchanging uneasy glances.

Distraught, I turned to Timothy, my voice choked with emotion. "I need some air. I'll be outside."

Timothy nodded, his brows furrowed. "I'll wait for you."

While holding back a sob, I navigated through the disoriented crowd and stepped outside, the cool evening air offering a fleeting break from the chaos within. The fact that I’d lost a friend in all of this only added to my distress.

As I tried to gather my thoughts, I heard footsteps approaching. I looked up and saw Andy marching toward me, face twisted with rage.

"So, you and Timothy have the audacity to show your faces here, huh?" Andy's voice was laced with resentment.

I braced myself for the confrontation, knowing the blows would keep on coming. "Andy, please, listen to me," I pleaded, hoping to reason with him.

He scoffed, his gaze sharpening. "I know it was Timothy. Don't try to defend him."

His directness about such a thing sent a shiver down my spine, but a doubt lingered in the way he hesitated, a hint of uncertainty that I couldn't ignore.

"Are you absolutely certain?" I asked, my voice edged with skepticism.

Andy's eyes narrowed, his tone resolute. "Of course, I believe it. The evidence is there."

"But what if it's not?" I pressed, my intuition pushing me to question the certainty in his eyes.

Andy's expression hardened, defensive. "What are you getting at?"

I took a deep breath, determined to voice the nagging suspicion that had been gnawing at me. "You have your own motivations, Andy. What if it was you, and Timothy is just a convenient scapegoat? What if his DNA wasn't found?"

His eyes widened, a mix of surprise and anger flashing across his face. "Oh, please! I loved that woman, and I want justice more than anybody."

"But justice doesn't mean condemning an innocent person," I retorted, my frustration bubbling to the surface. "If Timothy didn't do it, then who did? We need to be sure before pointing fingers."

Andy's fists clenched at his sides, and he took a step closer, his voice low and threatening. "Somebody’s gotta go down for killing her. Besides, with the lawyer my father got him, I’m sure he’ll get off."

I gritted my teeth. "You don’t know that."

He scoffed, dismissing my words. "You're defending him because you love him. I get it. But don't drag me into your doubts."

“It’s too late for that.”

Andy's expression shifted from anger to offense, a flicker of discomfort flashing across his features. "Are you suggesting something?"

I turned toward him, squaring my shoulders. “I’m merely stating my own thoughts on the matter. Feel free to chip in.”

His lips curled into a sneer. “Feel free to kiss my ass.”

With that, he stormed off, his footsteps echoing in the distance. But within me, the suspicion lingered, a sense that there might be more to it than what Andy was letting on. The accusation had hit a nerve, ruffling feathers that hinted at deeper connections and untold secrets.

As I watched his retreating form, a glimmer of realization began to form. The accusations, the certainty in some people's minds, all seemed too neatly aligned. Timothy's implication had been abrupt, the evidence seemingly compelling to others who should have known the kind of person he was.

The pieces of the puzzle seemed to shift, revealing shadows that hadn't been illuminated before. The unanswered questions were going to eat away at me unless I did something.

There was more to the story, more layers waiting to be unraveled, and I knew just where to look. Andy wasn’t as innocent as he was letting on.

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