“You lied to the police, Frankie. Did you think they won’t check?”
“I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true,” I tell him.
“You told them Emilio was your husband and that you can’t be used to testify against him,” Mr. Valentino says.
“Oh, that.” I fall onto the sofa. “I panicked.”
“You also told them you were the one who stabbed the victim,” Mrs. Valentino adds.
“That wasn’t a lie,” I whisper.
“What?” My dad’s head snaps towards me.
“It was me,” I attempt to explain. “Hudson was there. He saw it.”
My brother is sitting next to me. He hasn’t left my side since I got back here. “She didn’t have a choice. The fucker grabbed her from behind. We couldn’t get a clean shot.”
“Fucking Emilio.” Tío E shakes his head.
“I’m sorry. I tried to tell them. I said it was me but they wouldn’t believe me. And Emilio, he…”
“He what?” Tío E asks.
“He wiped the knife off and then picked it up.”
“Of course he fucking did,” Tío E growls.
“I’m sorry.” I can’t help the tears that fall down my face.
“It’s not your fault, princesa. It’s Emilio’s fucking need to always bail you out of trouble without any regard for himself,” Tío E tells me.
“It’s still my fault. I should have stayed home. This wouldn’t have happened if I stayed home.”
“When they discover you lied, they’re going to push you harder, Frankie. They will use you against him. You have two choices: lie on the stand and risk being charged for it, or tell the truth and risk being charged for murder,” Mrs. Valentino says, sitting down across from me.
“No.” I shake my head. “We can just make it so I didn’t lie.”
“What do you mean?” she asks.
“Get me some marriage certificates or papers whatever it is. I’ll sign them. Mr. Valentino can take them to Emilio and he can sign them too. Surely Tío E and my dad can get a judge to backdate the filing.”
“Absolutely fucking not!” my dad yells.
“Yes,” I tell him.
“This is not the reason you fucking marry someone, Frankie, or how.”
“Would it be better if I was dared to marry him on a drunken night out?” I raise a challenging brow. That’s how my parents ended up married in a Vegas chapel two days after meeting. My father dared my mother to marry him, and she took him up on the offer.
“She has a point.” Tío E smiles.
“No, she fucking doesn’t. You’re not marrying Emilio.”
“I am. Tío E, find someone to do the papers. I’ll sign them. I’m not letting anyone use me against your son.” My voice is firm. I’ve made up my mind. I’m doing this.
“Frankie, think about this. It’s marriage. He could go away for life for this,” Dad tries again.
“Then I will spend the rest of my life visiting him,” I counter. “And he’s not. Mr. Valentino will get him out. Right?” I look to Emilio’s lawyer.