jaw- clenched. Elaborate stories, forged phone records, non-existent transfers. It was a full-frame job.
“Look at these dates,” Nia said, pointing. “They rushed it. Mistimed calls, overlapping alibis. Sloppy.” “Doesn’t matter,” Nyla replied. “They own the levers, the evidence rooms, the witnesses, the local judiciary.” Dinner arrived. “Sad bolognia continue reading …
