had permanently burned her bridges with Frankie Bingham. The Nobles family was powerful and Misa couldnât afford to make any more mistakes.
She looked at the woman who hadnât bothered to identify herself and shook her head. No matter how grim her future seemed at the moment, she couldnât see snitching as a means of bettering her chances at trial. âI want to talk to my lawyer,â she said.
The woman looked disappointed. âYou sure?â she asked. âTake another look.â
Misa didnât bother. She had seen enough the first time.
The woman nodded. Her glasses were ugly, Misa decided. Far too big for her face. She scribbled something in yet another logbook and called the rookie to come and get Misa. The officer came back in and ushered Misa all the way down the two flights of stairs theyâd originally climbed and then farther down another stairwell, into what seemed like the dungeon of the precinct. It turned out to be the holding cells for the female prisoners. A blond female cop took over at that point and the rookie disappeared for good. Misa was led by the blonde to what would be her cell for the night.
Upon seeing it, Misa paused. The tiny cell was filthy, covered in graffiti that had been carved into the walls, into the hard metal bench and even the floor. A disgusting stainless steel toilet with a sink on top of it sat in the middle of the cell and the smell of urine was overpowering. Yellowed tissue clung to the seat of the toilet and Misa had to fight the urge to gag.
âI canât sleep in here,â Misa said, shaking her head and backing away.
Blondie took Misa by the arm and urged her forward. âI know,â she said, sounding as if she felt genuine sympathy for the pretty young lady in her charge. âItâs not easy, but you have to go in there. Just try to get some sleep and before you know it, itâll be morning and youâll be on your way to court.â
Misa looked again at the cell she was being forced to spend the night in and shut her eyes as if to block it out. She pictured her own bed at home, Baronâs big beautiful bed in his big beautiful house. Looking at the metal bench she was being made to sleep on tonight, she shook her head as Blondie uncuffed her and nudged her forward into her evening accommodations. Misa slunk down onto the bench and leaned her fresh weave against the dank and dirty walls as Blondie locked her cell. She heard another door slam as Blondie retreated, heard still another door shut loudly outside of that one, and knew there was no escaping this fate. She was doomed to live like an animal for the time being. Misa could hear other voices in neighboring cells and listened to the conversations being shouted out from one woman to another. But she refrained from joining in. Instead, she laid her small body on top of the hard metal bench and shut her eyes. Sleep never came for Misa, but she still dreamed of seeing her son smiling at her, free of his predator, no longer scared of the big bad wolf.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
Camille had showered , changed, and was lying across the chaise in Dominiqueâs living room. Toya, too, had freshened up and was sipping a cup of coffee while seated on the sofa, looking at the sunlight spilling through the huge windows of Dominiqueâs apartment. Dominique was walking back and forth, frantically dialing the numbers of some of Octaviaâs friends in hopes that they had heard from her during the night. So far, sheâd had no luck. Both Toya and Camille had been disheartened to learn about Octavia running away. Toya had assured Dominique that her daughter was a smart young lady and that she was okay and would come home soon. Dominique wanted to believe that, but her maternal instincts tugged at her still. None of the women had slept a wink in close to twenty-four hours. And what an unbelievable twenty-four hours it had been.
After leaving Staten Island, the three
She looked at the woman who hadnât bothered to identify herself and shook her head. No matter how grim her future seemed at the moment, she couldnât see snitching as a means of bettering her chances at trial. âI want to talk to my lawyer,â she said.
The woman looked disappointed. âYou sure?â she asked. âTake another look.â
Misa didnât bother. She had seen enough the first time.
The woman nodded. Her glasses were ugly, Misa decided. Far too big for her face. She scribbled something in yet another logbook and called the rookie to come and get Misa. The officer came back in and ushered Misa all the way down the two flights of stairs theyâd originally climbed and then farther down another stairwell, into what seemed like the dungeon of the precinct. It turned out to be the holding cells for the female prisoners. A blond female cop took over at that point and the rookie disappeared for good. Misa was led by the blonde to what would be her cell for the night.
Upon seeing it, Misa paused. The tiny cell was filthy, covered in graffiti that had been carved into the walls, into the hard metal bench and even the floor. A disgusting stainless steel toilet with a sink on top of it sat in the middle of the cell and the smell of urine was overpowering. Yellowed tissue clung to the seat of the toilet and Misa had to fight the urge to gag.
âI canât sleep in here,â Misa said, shaking her head and backing away.
Blondie took Misa by the arm and urged her forward. âI know,â she said, sounding as if she felt genuine sympathy for the pretty young lady in her charge. âItâs not easy, but you have to go in there. Just try to get some sleep and before you know it, itâll be morning and youâll be on your way to court.â
Misa looked again at the cell she was being forced to spend the night in and shut her eyes as if to block it out. She pictured her own bed at home, Baronâs big beautiful bed in his big beautiful house. Looking at the metal bench she was being made to sleep on tonight, she shook her head as Blondie uncuffed her and nudged her forward into her evening accommodations. Misa slunk down onto the bench and leaned her fresh weave against the dank and dirty walls as Blondie locked her cell. She heard another door slam as Blondie retreated, heard still another door shut loudly outside of that one, and knew there was no escaping this fate. She was doomed to live like an animal for the time being. Misa could hear other voices in neighboring cells and listened to the conversations being shouted out from one woman to another. But she refrained from joining in. Instead, she laid her small body on top of the hard metal bench and shut her eyes. Sleep never came for Misa, but she still dreamed of seeing her son smiling at her, free of his predator, no longer scared of the big bad wolf.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
Camille had showered , changed, and was lying across the chaise in Dominiqueâs living room. Toya, too, had freshened up and was sipping a cup of coffee while seated on the sofa, looking at the sunlight spilling through the huge windows of Dominiqueâs apartment. Dominique was walking back and forth, frantically dialing the numbers of some of Octaviaâs friends in hopes that they had heard from her during the night. So far, sheâd had no luck. Both Toya and Camille had been disheartened to learn about Octavia running away. Toya had assured Dominique that her daughter was a smart young lady and that she was okay and would come home soon. Dominique wanted to believe that, but her maternal instincts tugged at her still. None of the women had slept a wink in close to twenty-four hours. And what an unbelievable twenty-four hours it had been.
After leaving Staten Island, the three
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