"What is she playing at?"
Unable to bear the suffocating silence, one of the girls nervously tugged at Sheryl's sleeve and whispered, "Sheryl, does Charlotte know something?"
"Why are you panicking?"
Sheryl shot the girl a vicious glare and kept her voice low. "She has no proof. What can she possibly do to us?"
The girl stole another glance at Charlotte, her heart still racing with anxiety.
"Mrs. Blair."
Just then, Officer Donovan returned to the interrogation room and spoke respectfully. "The items you sent over are perfectly fine."
Items?
What items did Charlotte send to the police station?
Evidence?
Sheryl's fingers involuntarily curled into tight fists, her palms slick with cold sweat.
That was impossible!
They had specifically chosen a blind spot. There was nothing there!
"Good."
Charlotte stood up, looking down at the five girls with absolute superiority. Her voice was like ice. "Polly's surgery cost fifty thousand dollars, and her follow-up rehab will easily run into the six figures."
"Pushing someone down a flight of stairs constitutes intentional assault..."
She paused for two seconds, glancing at the officer beside her. "What's the standard sentence for intentional assault?"
"Up to three years behind bars. For severe cases, anywhere from three to ten years," Officer Donovan replied promptly.
"Thank you."
Charlotte offered a faint smile, her gaze casually drifting back to the girls, who were practically holding their breath as they tried to maintain their composure. "You might want to calculate how many years you'll be making license plates behind bars."
"Officer Donovan, the rest of the materials will be delivered tomorrow. Thank you for your hard work today."
"It's no trouble at all, Mrs. Blair."


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