Claire squatted on the ground, her head buried between her knees, weeping soundlessly.
She did not know whether it was right or wrong.
Until just over ten minutes ago, she had still firmly believed in Thompson's innocence.
The third day.
The day Thompson was to be released.
After checking his equipment, Geralt solemnly looked at Nancy. "Are you ready, soldier?"
Nancy took a deep breath and shouted, "Ready, sir!"
The innkeeper cocked his ear. "Young people sure know how to have fun."
He thought Geralt and Nancy were playing some kind of role-playing game.
Storybrooke did not have a separate detention center.
Suspects held for long periods had to be transferred to Paradise Town.
Geralt and Nancy waited outside the police station.
Thompson's supporters and opponents were waiting as well.
The two sides stood on opposite sides of the road, holding signs, clearly divided.
A police transport van stopped at the entrance of the station.
Four armed escorts got out first.
Every one of them was carrying a loaded weapon.
Thompson's opponents immediately broke into jeers, clearly dissatisfied with the tight security around him.
Thompson slowly stepped out of the vehicle.
He looked very different from the photos Geralt had seen. He was leaner and more vigorous, his eyes bright and his posture straight.
Thompson did not hurry into the station. He paused slightly, his gaze sweeping over the opponents and supporters one by one.
There seemed to be power in his eyes.
Intimidated by Thompson's presence, the jeers abruptly stopped wherever his gaze fell, and the scene became eerily quiet.
Geralt said softly, "Thompson is a little unusual."
"Suffering makes people grow," Claire said.
"Maybe." Geralt looked thoughtful.
Thompson said nothing and walked into the police station step by step.
There was bleakness in the background, yet also resolve.