Being framed for murder sucks. Being framed for the murder of your old friend-turned-enemy-turned-maybe-friend-again sucks even worse. The old Sheldon would’ve raised hell, but no, I’ve been nice. I’ve been quiet. I’ve not said a word while the headlines rip me to shreds, but now? All bets are off. I’m going to find out who did this to me and I’m going to make them pay. I don’t care who will get hurt in the process.