Arrested

NEXT MORNING

The loud ringing of the doorbell echoed through the silent walls of Leila's house. With heavy steps, she approached the door, wondering who was knocking so early in the morning.

As she opened the door, her heartbeat accelerated at the sight of two uniformed police officers standing on her doorstep, their expressions grim and Cold.

"Leila Winston?" one of the officers asked, his voice hard and unfriendly.

Leila nodded, her throat tightening with apprehension as she struggled to find her voice.

"That's me," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

"We're here to place you under arrest," the other officer stated bluntly, his words like a hammer blow to Leila's fragile composure.

Tears stung at the corners of her eyes as she watched the officers approach, their hands reaching for the handcuffs that hung from their belts.

She wanted to protest, to scream out, but the words caught in her throat, suffocated by the weight of despair that threatened to consume her.

She knew