QUIET. Everything was quiet. The building of the police department fell into a ghostly silence as everyone tapped away at their keyboards, completely stunned to have caught the Midnight Ghoul and the cop killer. Court dates were set. Arrests were made. John Booker Routledge and Tatum Quinn were never going to see the sunlight again.
The girl waited for a parade of guards to come and take her away like they always did when she was sent to juvie. This time was different, though. This time, she could be going to jail. She was a serial killer, a mass murderer. She had killed more people than Ted Bundy.
But she didn't care.
All night, she had been exhausted. She had sex with her girlfriend, vomited straight after. She found out her girlfriend basically cheated on her with her best friend, murdered a bunch of people. She was arrested, didn't bother trying to fight it.
In her eyes, she had two choices. One: storm out and kill everyone in her way, starting with Pope Heyward. Two: kill herself.
She chose the latter.
No tears. No sobs. No cry.
No sound.
Tatum Quinn finally dragged a knife across her throat.