The heavy prison gate clanged shut behind Mr. Collins and Mr. Jackson. The guard walked them through the gray hallway, each step echoing on the cold floor.
“They’re in the visitors’ room,” the guard said. “You’ve got fifteen minutes.”
Mr. Collins and Mr. Jackson exchanged a glance.
When they entered the room, Amor and Morgan Feehily were already sitting at the metal table. Amor’s once elegant face now looked tired, her eyes sharp and cold. Morgan looked just as worn, his hands clenched into fists on the table.
Amor narrowed her eyes. “What are you two doing here?”
Morgan leaned forward. “You better have good reason for showing your faces.”
Mr. Collins pulled out the chair and sat. “We came to tell you something.”
Jackson stayed standing. “It’s over.”
Amor raised her eyebrow. “What
