Windows on the World (OLD VERSION) [BEING REWRITTEN]

[⁶] ˢᵒʳʳʸ ˢᵉᵉᵐˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵃʳᵈᵉˢᵗ ʷᵒʳᵈ

Phoebe's memory held up and remembered the numbers correctly. The call had been placed. All that was left to do was wait. But here was no certainty that anyone would appear.

As Phoebe's leg went up and down, her boot thudded against the floor. The repetitive noise calmed her, but it made the officer impatient.

"If there's no one who can-"

"I know." Phoebe cut him short. "You don't need to repeat it."

Come on, come on.

The only option left had been both a good one and a bad one at the same time-if it worked. Otherwise, it was back to options 1 and 2; Joanna or Carlo. There was no good choice.

The reflections bouncing back from the shiny boots provided a distraction for her not to overthink. It was easier said than done. But there was little else to do.

The humiliation was the worst of all though.

And on par with knowing that her plea for help would certainly be ignored. She didn't deserve even being acknowledged.

Phoebe had screwed up and she accepted it. It was just too bad the rest of them been able to escape and she was the only one caught.

Maybe the right thing was to suck it up and not blame it on them. But she couldn't help the anger building up inside of her.

One drag. She'd taken one miserable drag of that damned weed and it would ruin her. If it had only been the alcohol she might have had a chance to walk off by her self.

This was serious and she had no idea who would hold her hand while facing it.

About to look away from her boots, give up and ask for permission to make another call, Phoebe heard a mellow voice. The mellow voice.

The voice was faintly heard at the entrance of the building from where she was sitting.

And the calculated footsteps against the station's floor were immediately recognizable.

She looked up only when those footsteps came to a stop before her.

Phoebe let out the breath that she'd been anxiously holding for what felt like a lifetime.

"You came," she stated with surprise but relief too. Phoebe watched him with curiosity. It was obviously the last place he wanted to be, but there he was. Amazingly, he'd cared enough to rescue her. "You hung up on me. I didn't think you'd come."

Walter only made a half-hearted tilt with his head to indicate Phoebe to get up and follow him. Follow him from behind, because he sure as hell wasn't going to let her walk at his same level.

However, the officer stepped in Walter's way with a hand held up to stop them from walking out.

"Woah, there. Who are you?" He asked.

"Walter Cooperman. Attorney." Walter showed him his accreditation. "She's a minor with no previous misdemeanors-she's going home tonight."

"It's fine, Henley." Another officer butted in. He was older and more composed. "Let them go."

Walter's expression softened a little. It seemed like he recognized the man.

"Kevin."

They shook hands like past acquaintances. Meanwhile, all Phoebe could do was wait impatiently and fidget.

"Walter."

"Thank you," Walter nodded graciously.

"There's nothing to thank. You're right, we won't hold her today. But next time it won't go so smoothly," the officer, Kevin, said, turning his attention to Phoebe by looking down at her small stature. It felt dimishing, like she was a child. "so there better not be a next time. You hear that?"