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Sixty two

Avery was so distracted walking into the prison that she bumped into four separate security guards and soldiers.

She hit each of them with a cold glare, and they all immediately apologised, which satisfied her.

They should have moved when they saw her coming, but she wasn't going to hold it against them this time.

She had changed into heels in the car, and the clip-clop of the heels on the tile floor was satisfying.

Flicking some of her hair over her shoulder, she straightens her back and pushes her shoulders back, schooling her face into a stony expression as she leaves the elevator.

Her steady walk down the corridor to the interrogation room encourages her.

This will be okay, Sonya encourages.

What if he doesn't say anything?, Avery asks, slightly panicked.

Then we're just in the same place we are now, relax; we have nothing to lose by going in here, Sonya shrugs, being a voice of reason for once.

Avery knows she's right, and she forces herself to relax.

She's terrified that she cou
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