Facade of Love (Yvette Scott and Idris Young)
Chapter 265

Chapter 265 Turning Point

The room I used to be in had a heater, which someone had unceremoniously turned off. The person who used to bring meals on time had not shown up in days. Now, in the depths of winter, even in the south, Lake City's sub-zero temperatures were brutal.

I had always been cold-blooded, especially in the winter-my hands and feet would turn to ice all the time.

I could handle the chill with the heater, but now, without it, it was a whole different level of misery.

They had cut me off from food and water, and at first, I could handle it. However, by the second day, I was dizzy, my limbs were numb, and my heart was racing from the hunger and thirst.

I knew they were trying to break me to make me confess. If I caved, I would be sealing my fate as a murderer in court, especially without any evidence to back me up.

I held on.

By day three, my throat was like a desert.

Back in the interrogation room, everything felt hazy. Renata, the same cop who had grilled me before, was there, eyeing me with a mix of suspicion and superiority. "Yvette," she said, looking down her nose at me, "ready to spill the beans?"

I could barely muster the energy, my voice scratchy and dry, "What do you want me to say?"

She cut to the chase, "You killed Noah, right?"

I did not answer right away. Instead, I let out a bitter laugh before replying, "Officer, is this your idea of squeezing a confession out of me?"

She scoffed, "A murderer wants to debate the law with me?"

I managed a weak smile, my voice a rasp, "Not really, but just so you know, the Scotts can afford a lawyer."

She sneered. "Is that a threat?"

I shook my head, "Nope, just the facts. For starters, I did not kill Noah. Perhaps you should ask yourself why you have not solved the case yet. No solid evidence, just trying to wring a confession out of me. Does that mean you're incompetent? Are you so desperate to close the case that you would stoop to this? Officer, how are you any different from those internet trolls who stir up drama without a clue about the truth?"

I could not tell if my words had hit a nerve, but she went pale with anger. Staring me down, she snapped, "Alright, if you're going to be stubborn, then stick with it. Let's see how long you last." After that short and intense questioning, I got the picture of what was coming my way. A laugh almost escaped me,

Locked away, I was out of the loop on the outside world. I had left everything in Marcus's hands; the rest was out of my control. I was clear on one thing: without evidence to back me up, I was not getting out of here. That was a cold, hard fact.

Sprawled on the ley single bed, my whole body ached with a bone-deep chill. As I wondered how many more days I would have to survive like this, Officer Jackson's unexpected visit caught me off guard. His entrance made me pause, and he did the same. With a furrowed brow, he looked at me and demanded, "What's the situation here?"

He was not really asking me, but rather the two guards who had been on my case. They shuffled their feet, looking sheepish, and mumbled, "Mrs. Newman's orders. She said she needed to 'toughen up' to get her thoughts straight about how Noah died."

Officer Jackson's face darkened. He hesitated, then barked out orders, "Get the heater on in here, and bring her some food and drink, pronto. A glass of water first," he added.

He then came over to where I was and checked in, "Ms. Scott, are you holding up okay?"

I met his gaze, feeling a wave of dizziness, and managed a weak shake of my head. "I'm not going to die just yet, Officer Jackson. Are we finally going to court?" This whole thing had been dragging on forever; it could not go on like this.

Officer Jackson eyed me, hesitated for a moment, then handed me a cup of warm water the guard had brought in. "Here, drink this. It will warm you up. Regarding Mrs. Newman, I owe you an apology on her behalf."