At the detention center, in the visitation room separated by a thick pane of glass, I sat on this side, watching the guard bring Celeste out.
She was wearing the detention center vest, her greasy hair plastered onto her face.
A face that had once been spoiled rotten, now sallow and sunken, her eyes full of venom.
The moment she saw me, she suddenly lunged at the glass and screamed, "Brigitte! You b***h! I'll kill you!"
The guard held her down by the shoulders, forcing her back into the chair.
She screamed at me through the glass, "It was you. You deliberately gave me the password. You knew those drug dealers would be there all along, didn't you?"
I picked up the receiver and said calmly, "Yes, I gave you the password. But you chose to go there yourself. Did I force you to wear that n
