Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
Fuck, why didn’t I learn this language?
After what feels hours later, although I know it’s only a few minutes, we pull into a police station.
I’m lifted from the car and dragged through the front doors.
I go into panic mode and begin to sob uncontrollably.
“I want a solicitor!” I cry as I am bustled through reception. “I need a translator.” I glance up and see Enrico at the other side of the desk. He’s writing something. He looks up and his face falls when he sees me. His eyes dart to his co-worker.
“Cosa è successo?” Translation: what’s happened?
“Stava trafficando droga.” Translation: She was trafficking drugs.
“Cosa? Come lo sai?” Rico snaps. Translation: What? How do you know?
“Rico!” I cry. “Help me. Tell them I didn’t do this.”
“La sua borsa era piena, ovviamente colpevole,” the policeman tells him. Translation: Her bag was full, guilty as.
I’m bustled away quickly.
“Rico!” I cry as I try to crane my neck to see him. “Please, help me.”
I am pushed into an office and the door is slammed shut behind us.
Six hours is an eternity when you’re locked in a room.
Eeriness is lurking in the air. I stare at the wall through my tears, battling the silence, trying to quieten the sheer terror of what I’m facing.
Drug trafficking in another country.
I’ve been strip searched, interrogated, humiliated, and then… deserted.
Enrico left.
Well, I’m assuming he left.
He hasn’t come to see me. There’s been no mention of him or the fact that we know each other from the policemen I’ve been dealing with. Did he even tell them that he knew me? I stupidly thought he cared. If not enough to carry on our relationship or whatever it was, at least enough to help me as a friend when I’m in need… and I’m in dire fucking straits here.
They allowed me to make one call and I chose to call the Australian Embassy.
They will know what to do; they have to. I’m assuming by now they would have called my parents back home, and I feel sick knowing what they must be going through. This is every parent’s worst nightmare. Natalie is in the air, on her way home to London, and she won’t have any idea of what has happened yet.
Maybe I’m going to wake up any moment and find that this is all a bad nightmare. Please, please, please let me wake up soon.
The door opens and clicks quietly closed. I close my eyes in dread. Here we go again.
“Olivia.”
I turn suddenly to see Enrico standing over me, and my emotions bubble over at seeing a familiar face and my eyes instantly fill with tears. “Rico.”
“What’s happened?” he whispers.
“I don’t know.” I shrug sadly. My hope of this being a big mistake is dissipating by the second. “I’ve no idea. I got on the plane as normal, and then when I arrived, they said I had drugs in my bag.”
His cold eyes hold mine. “How did they get there?”
“I don’t know.” I throw my hands up in the air. “I have no fucking idea who put them there but it wasn’t me.”
He rolls his eyes and drops into the chair opposite me. His body language tells me he knows it’s as bad as I think it is.
“What do I do?” I whisper.
“Just sit tight,” he says with a clench of his jaw. He seems angry.
“For how long?”
“Until I get you a lawyer,” he snaps.
“This isn’t my fault.”
“What is the one fucking rule of travel, Olivia?” He holds his finger up to accentuate his point. “One rule.”
“Lock your bags.” I sigh sadly.
“Exactly. Are you so fucking lazy that you couldn’t lock your god damn bag?”
My emotions bubble over. “If you came in here to upset me then don’t bother. I’m upset with myself enough about this.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales heavily. “I don’t need this shit. This is the last thing I need to deal with. I have enough on my plate without having to worry about you.”
What?
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I whisper angrily. “You don’t need this shit. You think I do?” I slump back into my seat. “Just go.”
“I’ve called a lawyer. He’s on his way.”
I wonder if I ever knew anything about him at all. “Thanks,” I eventually reply. We sit and stare at each other for a moment. He looks terrible with dark circles under his eyes and a pale complexion. “Are you all right?” I ask.
His eyes drop to the floor, and I see the muscles flex in his jaw. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because you look like shit,” I fire back. This hard to get act is wearing thin. “And why didn’t you return my calls?”
“Because….” He stands, suddenly angered. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth.”
What?
My face falls and my eyes fill with tears, I blink to try and hide them. That was the last thing I expected to come out of his mouth.