A Wedding Night Gone Terribly Wrong novel Chapter 205

Trapped and completely alone.

Her first day in detention felt like an eternity. Winifred spent from dawn until eleven at night in a small, windowless interrogation room.

The same questions, asked repeatedly, demanding endless recollections, explanations, and confessions...

When it was finally over, it took her half an hour just to sign her name across the documents.

As she penned the final stroke, she glanced at the bottom corner.

—[Page 88].

She had spoken for 88 pages.

She felt entirely hollowed out, as if she had poured her guts onto the table. She had offered total transparency.

But it wasn't enough.

She was officially transferred to criminal detention.

She was locked in a cell with a motley crew of women.

Listening to their chatter, she learned their stories—one had accidentally injured a store owner's child during a robbery, another had caught her husband cheating and attacked him with her lover, another had broken into a neighbor's house over a feud...

Placed among them, it wasn't hard for Winifred to deduce her own fate.

Either a swift death penalty.

Or a long sentence where she'd conveniently meet her end behind bars.

She couldn't save herself in here.

She didn't even know where her phone was; she hadn't seen it since they slapped the cuffs on her.

Before entering, the staff promised to contact her family, but she had waited two agonizing days, and there was still no word from Leland.

An experienced inmate next to her scoffed. "If they don't reach out within twenty-four hours, give it up. Two days? Don't hold your breath."

At that, the last thread of Winifred's hope snapped.

Drowning in despair and unable to reach Leland, she knew no one was coming to save her.

She was just waiting to die.

"Winifred Shultz, out!" a guard barked from the doorway.

Startled, she looked at the veteran inmate. "Are they taking me out to execute me?"

"No," the woman whispered. "You've only been here two days. They have to close the case and sentence you first."

Relieved but trembling, Winifred pulled her collar tight, leaned against the wall, and slowly dragged herself to her feet.

She was escorted to the visitation area.

Through the small iron-grated window, she saw an older man in a professional suit, a bulky briefcase at his side. He had a high forehead and sharp, piercing eyes.

"I am Jenson Roth, an attorney," the man introduced himself coolly. "I'm here on behalf of Holden Lockwood."