Police escorted the handcuffed prisoner into a cruiser, cameras flashing with every step. “Is this part of an escape plot?” a reporter shouted. “How many others are there?” another pressed. The officers ignored them, but their tight jaws and clipped movements spoke louder than any official statement could.
Daniel tried to move past the crowd, but microphones shoved toward him like spears. “Sir, how does it feel knowing inmates were digging under your home?” He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Every question only tightened the knot in his chest. He wasn’t a story—he was a husband, a father.