Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 59287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
“Yes, Judge Ashton?” he answered on the first ring.
“Have you started your appointments for the day?”
“No, sir. I’m about twenty minutes out from the first one.” He paused. “A Miss Olivia Spencer.”
Perfect. “I need you to place two extra restrictions on her file for me. Put the speeding lock device on its most restrictive setting, and I want her placed on the random drug and alcohol testing list.”
“Uh…I didn’t see that in your original court order,” he said. “I just see the—”
“Just do it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Thank you.” I ended the call and watched the surveillance video one last time before court.
Since she wants to fuck around, I’m about to let her find out…
CONSCIOUSNESS OF GUILT (N.):
A TYPE OF CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE THAT JUDGES, PROSECUTORS, AND JURIES MAY CONSIDER WHEN DETERMINING WHETHER A DEFENDANT IS GUILTY OF A CRIMINAL OFFENSE.
OLIVIA
“How long do you think I would last in prison, Lindsay?” I paced our living room. “Like, be honest.”
“Um…maybe a couple days. A week at most.”
“Seriously?” I asked. “That’s it?”
“I think you’d die without having access to your cell phone and writing supplies.”
“New York prisons have a writing program for inmates,” I said. “I’d have plenty of pens and paper.”
“You get two sheets a day and one pencil per week.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because Sam served six months inside.” She shrugged. “The only way you get more is to trade services or make yourself useful, which…I don’t think you could do. No offense.”
“You’d put money on my books though, right?” I stopped walking. “And you’d answer all my calls?”
“For the umpteenth time, yes.” She sat up a bit straighter. “Can you please tell me why you’re suddenly obsessed with being locked up and watching Orange Is the New Black?”
“Because I don’t want to go in blind,” I said. “I need to know what to expect whenever I get arrested.”
“Right…” She stood up and walked over to our window. “Whenever that guy gets done with your car, can you please go for a long drive somewhere? Like, anywhere?”
“You should be giving me your final hugs and well wishes right now,” I said.
She blinked.
“Just promise me you’ll follow whatever directions I leave for my stuff and give all my research notebooks to my parents.”
“Stop being dramatic,” she said. “That’s not how this works, Liv. The punishment phase is over, and I’m never using your license again. Chill out.”
She walked to our fridge and pulled out a tub of cream cheese. “You want a bagel before your job interview?”
I nodded, even though I hadn’t been able to keep anything down all morning.
The reality of what I’d done to Judge Ashton’s cars had slapped me in the face in the middle of the night, and my sanity had returned far too late.
I knew better than to tell anyone about it, and I always knew it was only a matter of time before a SWAT team showed up to put me behind bars.
“Okay, done.” Lindsay stuffed the wrapped bread into my purse. “Get to your interview early and then come back for that drive.”
“Okay…” I took one last look at myself in the mirror.
My white button-down shirt and khakis made me look like the perfect inmate already.
Not wanting to unravel any further, I headed downstairs and walked across the street to Happy Burger.
The smiley face on the double doors begged me to walk away, but I couldn’t afford to be picky while searching for a new job; I had to consider everything.
“Welcome to Happy Burger!” The employee behind the counter beamed once I stepped inside. “How can I make you smile today?”
“I’m here for an interview.”
“Well, that’s amazing!” She clapped, and then she picked up a bell. “Someone here wants to join our patty team!”
Turn around and walk out…
“Oh my god, yes!” Another employee moved behind me, blocking the door. “Are you Olivia Spencer by chance? The woman I spoke to yesterday?”
“That’s me.” I nodded.
“Oh, well—I already put your profile in the system, so we don’t really have to do a formal interview.”
“Really?”
“Really.” She grabbed a clipboard. “Follow me.”
I obliged, letting her lead the way to a bright red booth near the windows.
As we settled into our seats, three policemen walked into the restaurant. They looked around the dining room, muttering words I couldn’t hear.
One of them stared right at me, and he didn’t look away. Instead his lips parted as he looked me up and down.
My heart sprinted in my chest, and I braced for my arrest.
The three of them burst into laughter and walked to the counter.
Okay, maybe it’s all in my head…
I let out a slow breath, but then I wondered if they were planning to arrest me after they finished eating.
“Like I was saying, Miss Spencer—” The manager clicked her pen, pulling me out of my thoughts. “You seem like someone who would thrive in our frying kingdom, so I only need to get a few answers before I send things off for a background check.”