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The desk sergeant dialed the number and handed the phone to Tracy. She could hear the phone ringing. And ringing. There was no answer. Charles had to be home.
The desk sergeant said, "Time's up." He started to take the phone from her.
"Please wait!" she cried. But she suddenly remembered that Charles shut off his phone at night so that he would not be disturbed. She listened to the hollow ringing and realized there was no way she could reach him.
The desk sergeant asked, "You through?"
Tracy looked up at him and said dully, "I'm through."
A policeman in shirt-sleeves took Tracy. into a room where she was booked and fingerprinted, then led down a corridor and locked in a holding cell,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], by herself.
"You'll have a hearing in the morning,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych]," the policeman told her. He walked away, leaving her alone.
None of this is happening, Tracy thought. This is all a terrible dream. Oh,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], please,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], God,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], don't let any of this be real.
But the stinking cot in the cell was real,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], and the seatless toilet in the corner was real, and the bars were real.
The hours of the night dragged by endlessly. If only I could have reached Charles. She needed him now more than she had ever needed anyone in her life. I should have confided in him in the first place. If I had,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], none of this would have happened.