The walls were painted a clean white. The sinuous vines spread out on it, forming a green net, softening the color of the wall.

The vines stretched upwards. Rolled up to the iron windows two or three stories above the ground, small fine, purple flowers bloomed.

It doesn't look like a prison scene. It looks like a chic courtyard or a quiet castle.

The furnishings in the prison are also a little too gentle, the walls are pale off-white, and the surroundings are quiet and clean. In the high iron window, you can see a small green forest in the distance.

Polonis took the key from his pocket with his hat between his and opened the door to the interrogation room: even the door in the iron bars was delicate and slender. Under Australia's latest law, they will build many of these prisons to ensure the humane management of prisoners.

Polonius enjoys this kind of work. To be honest, he often felt like he was on vacation rather than being an interrogator in prison.

At this moment, there are still thirty seconds left before he ends his "vacation".

Polonius was sorting through the interrogation materials, looking up slightly, and examining the prisoner in front of him with his peripheral eyes—to his surprise, it was a rather beautiful young woman. The orange prison uniform does not look oppressive on her, but because of her bright temperament, it looks lively and jumpy; She held her cheeks, her beautiful face had a nonchalant look, and her eyes roamed over the prison walls like a glittering lake.

Polonius couldn't help but look at her a few more times, and secretly sighed by the way, expressing regret that such a beautiful girl had unfortunately become a prisoner. He tried not to look at her, flicked the cap of the pen in his hand with his thumb, and opened his head in a flat tone: "This lady, what is the crime you have committed?" ”

There was no answer for a long time. Puzzled, Polonius looked up at her, only to meet the girl's eyes: she was looking at herself curiously with one hand on her chin and her head tilted slightly to the side.

Suddenly, she smiled and winked at Polonius:

"I'm not guilty."

The tip of the pen in Polonius' hand paused.

He had heard many similar answers, but for some reason, just now, he clearly felt that his heart had stopped beating half a beat.

The girl looked at the stunned Polonius, puffed out her cheeks mischievously, and winked innocently. On the wall behind the girl was a high iron window, and a fresh breeze blew through the window, and the green forest in the distance rose and fell like waves in the window.

Seeing that Polonius was a little overwhelmed, the girl chuckled, propped her hands on the table, and held her beautiful face:

"I-no-have-sin."

She said it again, her voice mischievous and smug, like a child playing tricks on someone else.