The precinct was a blur of harsh fluorescent lights and echoing, institutional noise. Liam walked stiffly beside me, his gaze fixed ahead, refusing to meet my eyes.
The air between us was thick with his discomfort, a silent scream of accusation. He had been the one to drive me here, a silent, grim chauffeur to my own ruin.
We reached the front desk. An officer with a tired face looked up. "Riley Gray. Warrant for Murder One."
"I am her legal escort," Liam stated, his voice clipped. He handed over the paperwork. "My duty is concluded."
He didn't look at me. He didn't say goodbye. He just turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing down the hall until he was gone. The final thread connecting me to the world of the Gray manor snapped.
"Alright, let's go," the desk officer said, his tone bored. He came around the counter. "Empty your pockets. Everything in the bin."
"I have a bag," I said, holding up the small duffel.
