Chapter 83

**Amory's POV**

I’ve been waiting outside the police station for nearly an hour, watching each person as they step through the gates. The mugshot photo of Davis Noah is fresh in my mind. His rough features, hooded eyes, and a scar slicing across his jawline—all unmistakable.

Finally, a guard opens the gate, and a group of recently released inmates shuffles out, each heading in different directions. I glance down at my phone, comparing the image with the faces in the crowd. Then I see him—a lean figure in a black T-shirt and loose, worn-out trousers, his posture relaxed but guarded. He’s the last one out, his gaze flicking around as he takes in his surroundings.

“Davis Noah,” I call, stepping out of my car and moving toward him.

He stops, glancing back with a wary expression, his eyes narrowing as they travel from my shoes up to my face. He’s wearing a hood pulled low, but I can see his features clearly enough. He nods slightly, almost as if to say he knows why I’m here.

***

At the res