So Rick got perp-walked out today, hand-cuffs and all, apparently for dipping into the employee association account to the tune of a felony-level little sum which, if not for Shelby, we’d never have known about (although you’d think, after three years, we’d have known about it). And if not for Shelby, who’d have guessed that Ashley’s “29th” birthday was really more her twenty-fourth “29th” birthday? Not me. We’d also never have known that Sarah’s bruises weren’t really from a car accident, like she’d said. Turns out a seat belt imprint on your throat can mimic a pair of hands around your neck—which, according to Shelby, are the same size hands her ex has.
Thank goodness for...
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