Chapter Sixty.

The doors pulled away with a rigorous buzz sound and Jazzlyn almost shut her eyes, A chill slithered up her spine as she made her way across the aisle between the cells. Her heels clacked along the stained floors as she clenched her beige coat across her shoulders.

Slow breathes escaped her lips, oozing out cold air. Who could blame her—winter usually hit early in Northern Chicago. “Here, miss” One of the uniformed guards that accompanied her held out his baton pointedly to a rooted metal table with two chairs on opposite sides and Jazz cleared her throat before taking her seat.

You could hear the raging echoes come from above the large halls and occasionally, she would throw her head over her shoulders whilst clutching her purse. She’d watched enough movies to imagine a prison-break scenario. But luckily her mind didn’t wonder for too long because just then, her sister was escorted out.

You could see the amount of relief that washed over Holly’s face as she sat into the chair next to