"Can someone please get me the rest of the chicken nuggets from the Crapmobile outside," Elizabeth called down the hall

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"Can someone please get me the rest of the chicken nuggets from the Crapmobile outside," Elizabeth called down the hall. No matter how close she pressed her head to the iron bars not a single officer came into view.

"Making them believe you have the munchies isn't going to help your case."

With both hands still braced up against the holding cell Elizabeth turned her head. Reuben was lounging on the single piece of furniture. A metal bench strung to the wall with a couple of chains.

"Shut up or help me convince them."

Reuben's eyes remained shut. "I don't think feeding a criminal is very high up on their priority list."

"I'm not a criminal!"

"Tell that to the judge."

"I'm innocent!" Elizabeth attempted to shake the bars in desperation. "Blame the bee! Throw the bee in here and let me have my chicken nuggets... and turn on the AC!"

Elizabeth let out a sigh, ignoring Reuben's cackling from the corner. She was about to go back to pacing when the sound of heavy footfalls echoed from somewhere down the hall.

"If you stop shouting about chicken nuggets I'll let you have your phone call." This officer was hairier than the one who pulled them over earlier that day. The ginger hairs on his chin hung down to the top of his chest. If it wasn't for his navy blue uniform Elizabeth might have mistaken him for a lumberjack.

"My phone call?" She repeated to herself.

Who was she to call? The thought of phoning her parents and telling them she'd landed herself in jail forty-eight hours after running away had Elizabeth's spine tensing.

"Give her the phone call," Reuben said when words failed her. "I need a break from her constant commands too."

A chorus of agreement came from the surrounding occupied cells.

Elizabeth threw a glare over her shoulder. Reuben wasn't phased. Instead he waved. Elizabeth didn't understand until the door to their cell clanked open, the lumberjack fished her out by the arm.

He gestured to the metal cuffs hanging off his belt. "We don't need these this time, do we?"

Elizabeth turned her head, hoping her hair was long enough to whack the man across the face. "We didn't need them the last time."

The burly officer nudged her down the hall. His one hand squeezed around both of Elizabeth's delicate wrists. Sick gazes loomed over her. The eyes of true criminals. Predators. She was nothing like them. She didn't belong here.

"You have five minutes." The pressure around Elizabeth's wrists released the moment she was placed in a cubical.

She blinked at the man. "Five minutes? Have you never met a teenage girl before?"

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