She opened her mouth to narrate who was in the interrogation room with them, but the only words that came out were her stammering words as if she were struggling to talk right from the moment they gave birth to her: "People were... we were the... You asked them to leave while you discussed it with me." “Your Honor, obviously, as I said, what more can a criminal like Mrs. Isabella Rosewood have to say than to bring someone else down with her? The fact that she confessed to her crime and the fact that I, as her defending attorney, persecuted her instead mean that she wants to bring me down with her. And as it is in the court of law, whatever anyone claims, there should be evidence to back it up, be it in words or in documents. If Mrs. Isabella Rosewood here cannot provide this evidence, it means that she spoke lies against her attorney, and she should be equally punished for that as well,” Attorney Hughes said immediately. “Mrs. Isabella Rosewood, is there any evidence that you have to
Coming out of the courtroom and being ushered into the police van, Isabella saw that the numbers of the press outside the courtroom, waiting to televise her and write about her in all newspapers, social media, and blogs, were more than what she had seen before she entered the courtroom.However, this time, there was a difference. Judging by how it was before, the reporters would already swarm her and thrust their microphones toward her, even when she said nothing, other than the officers behind her making way for her to pass through.This time, the reporters only filmed her from afar, as she was being put in the police van and would soon be driven to prison, where she would no longer be free. Nevertheless, it did not mean that the reporters did not scramble at anyone because, to Ethan Mark and Emily Collins, who stepped out of the courtroom with Mr. Smith standing firm behind them, the reporters rushed and thrust their microphones toward his mouth.In this way, Isabella saw how they w
"One way in and one way out. There are two hundred officers and twenty prison cells on an island in the middle of the ocean. Each cell is a silent witness to the stories etched in the concrete walls. All of this is what Isabella heard as she stepped her foot onto the prison ground on the night of her sentencing.In the same way, she knew that everything she heard from the officers taking her to her cell was true. So was the fact that she saw how they had traveled by road and by large, deep water to get to this far prison purposely distant from the residents of the people.In the same spirit, she was able to tell that this prison looked so different than the one she had been locked up in before. Such were the surrounding waters, the waves of them, and the breezes that preached the confinement of the prison to be made for notorious criminals.“We are going to see how you will escape this prison this time, Daddy’s girl. Any mistake from you, and you will be thrown into the ocean, and the
Isabella felt a pang of nostalgia for the bright sky she now missed. For a long few seconds, she peered at the sky and wondered when she would be free to witness the bright sky at any hour of the day she wanted.In the same manner, as her eyes slowly fell from the sky, she observed the towering walls casting shadows over the enclosed space, and the mesh fencing above restricted her view of the open heavens.“Step in,” she heard as the metallic door separating the corridor and the prison yard was opened by one of the guards behind her. Just as she was instructed, she stepped in.“Turn and place your hands through the cuff port,” she heard again, and just like that, she placed her hands through the cuff port, and her handcuffs were unlocked immediately.“All prisoners have only two hours in the yard. So make good use of your time,” one of the officers said. Isabella saw them turn back and walk continuously into the corridor.Inside the yard, Isabella also felt a sense of confinement as
Isabella's eyes, lips, cheeks, and every feature on her face bled profusely from the barrage of punches Elara had decided to decorate her face with, creating a macabre masterpiece that mirrored the brutality etched upon the canvas of her battered visage. Even so, it did not mean that Elara stopped; she continued to yell and relentlessly push punches into Isabella's face. "Go Elara! yes! hit that motherf**ker," Isabella continued to hear as they cheered Elara up into hitting her some more. Her vision in this moment became blurry as she struggled to flicker it open; hence, it shut down into darkness. Nevertheless, it did not mean that Isabella gave up the ghost. In this manner, it only meant that Isabella was defeated, drained of all her strength. Even if, by some chance, she were skilled with her hands in combat, she had no strength left to throw a punch with her tired arms. Hence, the only thing she could do was receive the punches as she struggled for her life, unable to pass out f
Waiting for the night to come, like a woman anticipating her date at a coffee shop, Detective Sharon waited all day long for the sun to set and darkness to enshroud the earth.In her car, parked outside her home, Detective Sharon placed a call to one of her old colleagues at the police station.“Hey, Detective C.”“I already told you not to call me that. My name is Detective Cipher Shadow, for God’s sake.”“Alright, Detective C. I will make sure to remember your full name the next time we talk,” Detective Sharon said.“Yeah, whatever,” Detective Cipher replied, rolling her eyes as if Detective Sharon could see her.“Anyways, why are you calling at this time of the night? You should be in bed, probably snoring your lungs out by now,” Detective Cipher wondered why Detective Sharon had called her at this late hour.“You know the drill, Detective C. I need your help,” Detective Sharon said.“Wo, wo, wo, hold it there. Not again. I already told you that I am not doing anything outside of t
Like a criminal intending to break into a home at night, Detective Sharon observed how Attorney Hughes looked right and left, front and back. When he saw that no one noticed him, Detective Sharon witnessed how he quickly unlocked the door and went in. “Are you sure this is his house, or did he just break in?” Detective Sharon inquired once more, her voice cutting through the silence like a razor through paper, slicing through the darkness with the precision of a surgeon’s scalpel. “Yes, this is his home. I can’t visibly see why he did that unless you're willing to tread closer to the house,” Detective Cipher responded, her words hanging in the air like a delicate thread, daring Detective Sharon to unravel the mystery veiled in the shadows. As Detective Cipher spoke, Detective Sharon plugged her earbuds into her ears to aid communication between Detective Cipher and herself. She then opened her car door and bent out of it. Her height by her car was not taller than her car tires, as s
With the strength in Detective Cipher's voice resonating with authority, like a command forged in steel, he directed Detective Sharon to move the car. In response, she swiftly rose from beneath the steering wheel, and with a sense of urgency, she started her car.Accelerating forward with surprising speed, her car tires screamed like a teenager who had seen a ghost in the middle of the night. Consequently, she followed the direction she had glimpsed—the path Attorney Hughes and his company had taken, akin to a determined predator tracking its elusive prey through the shadows.As she got closer to them on the road, Detective Sharon immediately began to slow down, ensuring they wouldn't detect that they were being trailed. She positioned her car three cars behind them and drove at a minimal speed, akin to a silent shadow silently tailing its elusive targets through the murky night.The longer they continued to drive, even in the rain, the more Detective Sharon wondered where Attorney Hu