ARIA

The air in the precinct felt different as the guard turned the key in my cell door. It wasn't the relief I had expected. Instead, it was a heavy, suffocating sensation. The technicality Ross had mentioned—some tampered chain of custody issue with the hospital logs—had worked like a charm.

I was being let out, but I knew the price. I felt the weight of the signed confession tucked into my waistband, a ticking time bomb waiting for the right moment to explode.

"You're free to go, ...