Mira paced up and down the hospital hallway, arms locked tight over her chest like she was holding herself together. Those awful overhead lights made everything look worse.
Who designed hospitals to feel like a crime scene?
Gabriel lurked nearby, staring at the floor like it might bring up answers.
"I just... I can't believe it," Mira finally blurted, shattering the weird silence. "Dante? Out of custody? What, did he put on a fake mustache and waltz out the front door?"
Gabriel finally looked up, face all grim. "Doesn’t make sense. Nobody just strolls out of jail. Someone must’ve helped him."
Mira shot him a look, sharp and stern. "Are you saying a cop let him go? Come on, that’s insane."
He just nodded, slow and heavy. "It happens. Sometimes guards or staff get sloppy, or worse."
