Framed in the Dead of Night

At 3 AM, my neighbor John broke down my door with a group of people, claiming I'd hit someone with my car and fled the scene.

One of them grabbed me by the collar and yelled:

"It was you! You hit my dad and drove off. I got your license plate number. My dad's in the ICU right now, unconscious! You're taking full responsibility for this!"

He shoved his phone in my face, showing me photo evidence.

His wife stood beside him holding their child, wailing dramatically.

Still half-asleep, I had no idea what was happening. "What does this have to do with me?"