Dear Ex-Wife Please Be Mine Again (Christina and Alex) novel Chapter 188

Chapter 188 Daniel's POV.

The tray scraped across the metal, the grating sound echoing through the cell block like nails on a chalkboard. My stomach clenched, part hunger, part disgust. Two weeks in this hellhole, and I was already done with it. The food wasn't even worth calling food, but hunger didn't care about standards. I eyed the sad excuse for a meal: overcooked rice, watery beans, and a piece of bread that looked like it had been through a war.

The guard didn't even glance at me, just moved on like I wasn't there. That's what this place did...made you feel invisible, like you didn't matter. I grabbed the tray, sat on the edge of the cot, and picked up the bread. It was hard, dry, but I tore off a piece and forced it down.

Margret's words played in my head as I chewed. She'd promised to get me out, and she wasn't someone who broke promises. Shed bailed out worse people than me...hell, she'd practically written the book on bending the law. If anyone could pull strings, grease palms, and make this whole mess disappear, it was her. But as I shoved a spoonful of rice into my mouth, something felt... off.

My tongue tingled, like l'd bitten into something sharp, but there was nothing in the rice to explain it. I paused, staring at the tray. It looked the same as always...bland, unappealing, and harmless.

Maybe it w a s just my nerves. The trial w a s looming, and even though Margret had as sured m e s h e had everything under control, the thought of spending years in this dump gnawed at me.

I shook it off and kept eating, but the strange sensation didn't go away. My throat felt dry, tighter with each bite. I reached for the cup of water they'd given me and downed it in one gulp, but it didn't help. My chest felt heavy, like someone was pressing down on it.

I stood up, hoping to shake the feeling, but the second I was on my feet, the room spun. My legs wobbled, and I had to grab the wall to steady myself. Sweat dripped down my face, and my heart started pounding, hard and fast.

"What the hell?" | muttered, clutching my chest.

The tightness grew worse, spreading to my arms and neck. My breathing was shallow, quick, like I couldn't get enough air. I stumbled toward the bars, gripping them for support.

"Guard!" I shouted, my voice hoarse.

A few inmates turned to look, some smirking like they thought I w a s faking. Others just ignored me, too c a u g h t up in their own misery to care.

"Guard, I need help!" | yelled again, louder this time.

The guard finally turned, his face annoyed. "What now, Brooks?"

"I. something's wrong," I managed to get out, my words slurring.