Chapter Eighteen
"Do I get up every morning and ask: am I doing the things that I believe in and am I doing them for the best possible motives? Yes. Unambiguously yes."
– Nick Clegg
Annie's P.O.V.
Seven lines were carved into the stonewall next to me to match my striped jumpsuit (totally cliché, by the way). The rest of the small cell stank like pee and my cellmate was watching me with an expression very similar to one I'd seen on Discovery Channel of a lion eyeing up its prey. I gulped.
Outside the cell, Finn paced impatiently, raking his long fingers through his strawberry-blonde hair. It didn't help that all he seemed to be able to mutter was obscenities. His brother had left ages ago, giving up on trying to get Finn to leave me, but being the sweet guy he was, Finn stayed glued to
