The Testimony of the Dead Man Walking

They continued to search the apartment and found some other things stashed away. "And who does this belong to?" the chubby cop asked us as he pulled about 3 grams of heroin out of the purse that was tucked into the couch.
"I-I-I don't know," Keya stuttered, trying not to cry.
"Well, boy, what about you?" the chubby cop asked as he turned to me. I didn't say a word. I just sat there in silence.
"So, you don't hear me talking to you?" he asked. Man, fuck you, I thought to myself as I sat there not saying a word.
"Well, Keya, since it's in this purse with your identification, it's yours," he snapped as he aggressively put handcuffs on her also.
"What I'm going to jail for?" she cried.
"Possession of a controlled substance."
She sat there with her head hanging low. Just like that, I was on my way to the county jail along with my girl for capital murder.