8
Marcus sat at a table in the DA’s office, staring at the flag of his country. He took in Tibo Lewis, the DA, who appeared to have had his hair freshly cut for the day. His gray suit was impeccable, very fitting for his mood, and the expression on his face was one Marcus knew well from when he was talking to a defendant.
“I appreciate you coming in today,” Tibo said, gesturing to the spot where Marcus had taken a seat, because he was required to sit.
“As if I had a choice,” he replied. He wasn’t about to cower to this man, wondering what information he was holding on to, but he’d barely slept all night.
“Nevertheless, I’m sure you’re aware of your rights…”
“My client is here willingly, Tibo, so cut the crap,” Jack said from where he sat next to him. “He’s here to wrap up this witch h
