wild story about a stolen ID and a setup.
He was waiting for the chaotic, messy reaction of a guilty hit-and-run driver realizing their life was over.
I didn’t do any of those things.
The rain hit my face. The red and blue lights painted the wet pavement in violent flashing colors.
And standing there in the freezing cold, securely handcuffed at gunpoint, facing a 10-year mandatory minimum sentence, I smiled.
It wasn’t a crazy smile.
It was the terrifying, quiet smile of a chess player who had just watched
