Brenda wanted a normal school year. Instead her mom died.
Salma needed space from her sister and terrible ex. Or else she'd lose her mind.
Delilah didn't think she'd have any more problems after moving far from her hometown. That was until she becam...
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❝Parents are like God because you wanna know they're out there, and you want them to think well of you, but you really only call when you need something.❞ -Chuck Palahniuk
🌥ZIYAN🌥
Sinking into deep despair within my restless mind, I couldn't focus on the words coming out of the cop's mouth. He sounded like an adult from one of the Charlie Brown specials I watched growing up, muffled and resembling a trumpet. I drowned out the sound, unintentionally, because of the pounding, uncontrollable noise of my heart thumping my rib cage overpowering everything else.
One message.
One message that changed my life.
One text message and that was all it took for the Dallas Police Department to have a lead on the illegal operation I was running from the comfort of my bedroom.
One text and I was stuck, handcuff to the table. My breathing slowed, taking in the cold contact of the metal to my skin, clinging at my flesh. My body didn't feel like my own.
Dodging their questions, I hummed with my eyes close, imagining the entire ordeal as a bad dream that I'd eventually wake up from - shaking and sweating inside my bed. There was no believability in the situation I was in. No way was I getting arrested—not even when my Maranda rights were being recited to me, it didn't strike me as real. None of it did; I was swallowed up by fear, concealing my rage with a muted expression.
"We can keep this going all night if you want to keep up this act."
I fluttered my eyes open to see that the male cop was gone, and in his place, a woman in a blue button up shirt stood with a clipboard to her chest. I'd caught a glimpse of the name tag on the man's chest, reading jumbled up words on the silver plate with blurred vision. I forgot my contacts at home, not thinking of wearing them.
He was the man who brought me in, and when I had arrived at the location Wyatt texted me, Officer Fillmore was the one who showed up. The cop wasn't in uniform and he was relatively young, which was what threw me off when he proved who he was. I jumped out the car when he flashed his badge, leaping out of the door and stumbling in front of a lineup of police cruisers who were waiting for me.
I'd been set up. Not knowing where to go, I sprinted in the opposite direction, but was cut off by an alleyway. I was cornered with no place to go but into the arms of law enforcement.
"I don't know what you mean," I croaked out. "I'm not putting up an act."
She mustered a grin. "Ah, you can speak."
"I want a phone call to my lawyer."
I didn't have one. There were a few lawyers in my family and some that worked for my father due to the level of business ventures he took, making him need legal documents for work. The last person I wanted to face was my dad; but the last thing I wanted was to be an inmate who spent a night at the police station.
