A week later…
The clinking of keys echoed through the corridor of the detention center as the guard unlocked the visitation room.
Cammy sat alone behind the scratched plexiglass window, her eyes hollow, her skin paler than it used to be. Her fingers were tightly interlocked on the metal table, knuckles white from the pressure.
She hadn't cried since that day—she'd used up all her tears watching Dylan being pulled away, screaming for her with arms outstretched as the doors of the police cruiser slammed shut between them.
When the door opened again, Cammy's eyes flicked up. Atty. Grace Perez stepped in, her high heels clicking against the cold concrete floor. Her face was serious—too serious. She wasn't here with a miracle.
Cammy stood up quickly, her voice dry and shaky. "Atty. Grace… please tell me you have good news."
Grace sat down with a tired sigh, placing a thick folder on the table in front of her. Her eyes met Cammy's, but her silence was louder than anything.
