Excerpt
My name is Sam - only my ex-husband called me Samantha - and I'm lying here in a jail cell. Everyone, even the judge, acknowledged that nothing could have avoided the crash. The best driver in the world, stone cold sober, wouldn't have been able to do anything either. But my blood alcohol level was .081. And two people died. Facts are facts. The law is the law. The judge was sympathetic, but examples have to be made. I got three years - parole after one. And, to tell the truth, there is a kind of justice going on here.
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