“That carries mandatory prison time.”

“Good,” Mariana said.

Vance snapped his leather briefcase shut and turned toward the hallway without another word.

The duty officer unlocked the heavy steel door to Visitor Room C and held it open for us.

Teresa sat on a bolted metal stool on the far side of the reinforced glass.

She was wearing bright orange county sweatpants and a matching short-sleeved top.

The crisp lavender linen dress she had worn at the hospital was gone, and her dark hair hung loose around her shoulders without its usual silver pins.