“Mrs. Snyder, please.” Kramer holds up a palm, though not unkindly. “We’ll get into all that shortly. But before you say anything else, I’d like to remind you of your rights. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney—”
“I know my rights,” I interrupt. “My husband was a lawyer.”
“Was,” he agrees gently. “Yes, he was.”
I close my eyes again and breathe for a second as I struggle to wrap my head around everything. My thoughts are still murky and indistinct, slowed by the sedative.
Raymond is dead. That much is clear. That part of the plan worked, if nothing else.
But the rest of it has obviously gone haywire. Why am I here? Where is Matvei? Why is there gun
