Prison was the place with the least shortage of stories.

The eighteen-year-old girl, her back in the long white dress was still youthful, but her body had become bulky, hanging on the sides of the body nowhere hands through her nervousness.

I withdrew my eyes and looked at Christian, who was much calmer than he had been earlier.

"What's the truth?"

Christian took a drag, his other hand came over to take me, I subconsciously tried to withdraw my hand, but his grip tightened at once, and I could not break free.

"Let's go in the car, I'm tired of standing all night!"

Standing all night?

I found that I...