"Emi Sato. 0350-448-392." Yuki whispered, breathing heavy, his gaze flicking between the officer and the floor. "That is the only person I have."
The officer jotted it down in his notebook, then gave Yuki a long, unreadable look. Without saying a word, he stepped over to the desk, picked up the telephone, and dialed the number.
Once.
Twice.
Both times went straight to voicemail. The man's jaw tensed.
Yuki's chest tightened, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. He could sense the growing impatience in the room, the way the officer's lips pursed, the twitch in his brow. "I didn't mean to—"
"Do you think I'm playing with you?" The officer's voice rose sharply, his palms slamming down on the table like a gunshot. Yuki flinched, his muscles tightening painfully under the bruises. "One more chance and you're staying in the cell until tomorrow, kiddo."
"Okay, one more chance. Can you give me a minute to think?"
