Chapter 45

Garrison POV

Two days later, I found myself walking down the sterile, fluorescent-lit corridors of the county detention center. The air smelled sharply of bleach and stale coffee, a jarring contrast to the chaotic media circus swarming outside the building.

The deputy escorting me paused before a heavy steel door, shifting his weight uncomfortably. He glanced back at me, his keys jingling in his hand.

"Mr. Sterling, are you certain you want to do this? We can have her lawyer present if you prefer."

"I don't need a lawyer," I said quietly. "I just need to speak with her."

The deputy nodded, swiping his keycard and pulling the heavy door open.

Genevieve sat alone at a bolted-down metal table.

The vibrant, impeccably styled woman I had known for years was gone, replaced by someone who looked hollowed out. Her designer clothes had been traded for a drab institutional uniform, and her hair hung in loose,