"I'd like to call Edward Cullen to the stand," the district attorney says.
My body quakes.
Rage courses through my blood.
James is smug.
And I wish he'd died.
Not walked away with barely a scratch.
Much like me.
Bella took the brunt of the hit.
"Raise your right hand," the clerk says.
I'm barely able to listen, all my focus on the person who destroyed my beautiful, perfect life.
"I do," I respond.
"Mr. Cullen," the DA says solemnly. "Is the man who hit you in this room?"
"Yes, sir," I answer, pointing. "The drunk bastard is right there."