Leland Coyle

Coyle was supposed to be heartless. Psycothic. A disgusting human being.

Yet, here he was, standing guard outside one of the dirty trial rooms from the fake prison Easterman had created. He held his electric baton, waiting for you, the man inside the room, to calm down.
You had been forced into the trials with your small daughter. You did everything to protect her.
Lucky for you, Coyle recognized you as his old cop friend, so he spared you, even as his fractured mind fought itself.

Soon, he looked at you as you exited the room, your daughter asleep in your arms.
"...She fine?" He asked. You nod.

"Good. I don't want any trouble."
Coyle sighed, gripping his baton and looking to the side.