She sits on a bench made of steel. Thinking about how her life got her to this very moment. In front of her sits a rare steak, mashed potatoes stuffed with butter and cheddar cheese, a slice of apple pie topped with whipped cream that has began to melt. It was her favorite, and her last.

Her life had not been easy. Born addicted and given up for adoption hours after birth. She had many families, and suffer abuse by most. She was determined to better her situation. She had great grades, applied for scholarships, and was consistently on the Dean’s list during the school year. Her life was finally going as planned. But the pain of not knowing her mother would creep in during the night.

After debating if it was time to meet her mother, she decided to do an ancestry test. If her mother was in the database, she would reach out to her. If not, at least she would know her nationalities.

There, her mother’s name. 99% chance of maternity. She only lived three hours away. The next eight months would bring her here. To this moment.

Her mother and her mother’s husband and their four children had been brutally murdered. The bodies had been attacked after death, causing a blood bath. The last person to see them alive was her. That morning they had breakfast at a local dinner. Her D.N.A. Was found at the crime scene. A single strand of hair, and half of a finger print.

“It’s time.” The officer says, emotionless. She stands, cuffs placed on her wrists, and the walk starts. As the bring her to the gurney, she looks at her spectators. Three rows of blank faces.

“Any last words?” Tears fall from her eyes and stream down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, but I did not do it. You have the wrong person.” Reports scribbling down her statement. In the back row to the left, a hooded figure removes the shroud covering her face. The figure smiles and waves. It’s like looking in a mirror.

“Time of death, 4:14. Four minutes from injection.”

“New match! 99.9%”