Chapter Thirty-one
Realization dawned on Addie as she rubbed at the black ink
smudges on the sides of her fingertips. After they’d done a live scan and put
her fingerprints into the computer database, they’d insisted on rolling her
fingers with ink and across the grids of fingerprint paper. Addie had asked
why, but the deputy had only provided a curt answer, telling her that they kept
them on file at the jail and used them for comparison, or something or other.
She was a bona fide criminal. She didn’t feel like one, but her bright-orange
jumpsuit with SCDC on the back said it for her.
She couldn’t get warm sitting on the cold cement bed. It
seeped into her bones. The room was in horrible shape. Others who’d stayed at
the jail had carved their initials into the wall. How had they
