Defend a lie

The cold hallway of the police station echoed with Daniel’s footsteps as he was led toward the holding area. He hadn’t slept. His mind had been a whirlwind ever since the confrontation at the precinct. He still couldn’t believe it—Lena, the woman he had defended, lived with, and trusted, was now sitting behind a locked door, accused of orchestrating a kidnapping.

He paused outside the interrogation room, staring at the closed door. Through the narrow window, he could see her—Lena, seated at a steel table, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her usual poise was gone. Her hair was messy, and her expression flickered between irritation and nervousness. She looked smaller than he remembered.

The officer opened the door. “You have fifteen minutes.”

Daniel stepped in.

Lena’s head snapped up at the sound of the door. Her eyes lit up for a brief second—relief, maybe even hope—but it quickly faded when she saw the expression on his face.

“Daniel,” she said, sitting up straighter. “Thank God.