—Mabel—

An icy current went up and down my spine.

No, she didn't.

She didn't just smile at me— as if it was nothing... as though the law catching up with her was trivial.

No fears. No regrets. Nothing.

She sat alone in the interrogation room, hands cuffed to the table. Her composure was chilling, almost theatrical, like something out of a crime movie.

Her gaze drifted to the door as two suited men entered the room. Ruth gasped beside me. “Can she hear us?” she whispered.

Marcus shook ...