clear hard plastic evidence bin. Inside it was my trench coat, my keys, my wallet, and my matte black, enterprise-grade smartphone.
He set the bin on the table, pulled a small silver key from his belt, and unlocked the heavy Smith & Wesson cuff binding my right wrist to the table ring.
“I am watching your screen,” Vance warned, pulling his chair so close that our knees almost touched.
For illustration purposes only
“You don’t open a messaging app. You don’t make a call. You do anything other than what
