The door handle clicked, and the heavy steel door swung open.
It wasn't Officer Vance.
Victoria Vance walked into the small room, her heels clicking sharply against the linoleum. She was accompanied by her private corporate attorney, Harrison Croftโa tall man in a three-thousand-dollar suit carrying a sleek leather briefcase.
Victoria didn't look at Cricket. She walked straight to the table, reached out her manicured hand, and picked up the yellow rubber toy.
"A clever trick, little girl," Victoria said, her voice dropping into a raspy, dismissive register. "My father was always overly sentimental about you. He actually thought a twenty-two-year-old custodian could hold off a corporate takeover."
Cricket sat straight in her chair, wiping the dried tear tracks from her cheeks. Her fear had vanished, replaced by an intense, icy focus.
"My grandfather trusted me because he knew I had something you lack, Victoria," Cricket said softly.
Victoria paused, holding the toy in her hand, her eyes narrowing. "And what is that?"
"Integrity," Cricket replied.
Victoria let out a short, mocking laugh. She tossed the rubber toy to her attorney, who caught it smoothly and slid it into his leather briefcase.
"Integrity doesn't pay for forty-year municipal leases, child," Victoria sneered. "Harrison here has already drafted your signed confession. You will admit