MY EX PUT ME IN JAIL AND NOW HE WANTS ME BACK
she whispers
The man on the other line, apparently still listening, clears his throat. “Uh, ma’am—”
“Shut up,” Camille snaps, glaring at me “What do you mean he isn’t in prison?”
I shrug, enjoying the way her face pales. “I helped get him out.”
The phone nearly slips from her grasp. She clutches it tighter, pressing it against her ear. “That’s impossible.”
“Ma’am,” the man on the other line interrupts again, his voice shaking. “I was just about to call you. He’s… he’s gone. He escaped.”