Eden's POV
This police station is colder than the last one I was in. I inch back into my chair, clinging to Dante's jacket while Ryder manages to get me a cup of coffee from the break room. They hang back, pacing through the small interview room while I sit at the cold, metal table.
My heels tap on the concrete floors methodically, and I hold the coffee cup just to feel the warmth of it in my palms. My head has been spinning for the last few hours.
No one has come to talk to us since bringing us into this little room.
I look at the mirror along the side wall, wondering who is in there, and why they are watching us. I can't imagine that this has anything to do with the bank heist, considering we're still near the estate out of Manhattan, but they could be here about the clothes on the yacht.
I feel stupid for even forgetting about that stuff.
I lay my head down, exhausted, feeling like this is what they want from me. It's working.
The Golden brothers are less than worried,
