15
Destiny and I rode to the police station in the back of a squad car.
A police officer drove in silence, glancing back at us occasionally. The FBI agent, in the passenger seat, said nothing either, and he didn’t look back once at us. I had no choice but to stare at his bald head for the whole ride.
Meanwhile, Destiny’s phone sat on the center console, glowing purple under a protective barrier. The phone buzzed repeatedly.
Probably Darius.
But we could only watch the phone vibrate as the police transported us to the station, a stark brick building wedged between two glass office buildings.
We entered an underground parking garage and the officers ushered us out of the car, directing us to walk through a steel door and into a narrow blue hallway. We passed several police officers, wh
