The officer, growing impatient, tapped his foot. Seeing it, I took a deep breath and called again. This time, someone picked up. But the voice on the other end wasn’t Alger’s. It was hers—Carly Gill.
She said “Hello?” a few times, her tone light, almost amused.
My grip tightened on the phone. “Why do you have Alger’s phone?”
I didn’t bother hiding my anger. Why was she with my husband this late at night?
Carly chuckled softly. “Oh, Alger felt bad that I was spending the holiday alone, so he invited me over for New Year’s dinner.” Her voice was sickeningly sweet.
I couldn’t even process what she said after that. All I knew was that while I was here, shivering in a cold, dark cell, they were together—eating, celebrating, happy.
I hung up without another word and handed the phone back to the officer.
At that moment, no amount of cold could compare to the icy numbness in my heart. I sat there, staring at the full moon outside the barred window, my chest tightening with grief.