It was now mid-afternoon and Oliv was hungry. She’d basically had a Diet Coke for breakfast. When the cop was escorting her through the police station, they had passed through a small cafeteria. Well, cafeteria in a police station, so, enough description there, but she had seen a trough of ziti behind one of the windows. It even looked edible. Better than the two-day-old leftover burrito in the fridge awaiting Oliv when she got home. The cop hadn't let her stop to make an order though.
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