“Ah,” Amber said. “May I ask why?”
“I have to be there to get it,” Phillip said. Security rarely did a check on visitors leaving the building, and Jarden’s was a joke by comparison. It was practical, after all. “Very good,” Amber said. Once done, she continued to ignore the desperate gurgling sounds from Castor as she calmly pulled a shirt and pair of pants out of her bag. Her long, shimmering copper hair was one of her best physical features, and she wore it long, hanging straight down to the middle of her back. Once you’re released, you can work with us to retrieve the artifact. Now, if you would kindly lead the way.”
Estes finally opened the door, let Amber Bell walk through, and followed her out. A large piece of the building jutted off the side with a sign attached to it: Christoph Jarden Correctional and Rehabilitation Facility. “I’m good.”
“Nonsense,” Amber said. He looked like a man completely torn. It was a collection of large glass cylinders and spheres combined in an avant-garde design.
