Becky’s POV
The trip back to Paul's apartment went silently. The adrenaline that had kept me running was disappearing and leaving me very tired. Leaning against the automobile window, I looked blankly at the city lights. Joan was under police custody, but her last words stayed with me. Though deep down I knew Joan was not the kind to go down silently, I tried to persuade myself she was merely blustering.
Paul stopped the car, and we entered his apartment; both of us were too tired to say much. I slumped on the couch and massaged my temples.
"Want some tea?" Paul volunteered, attempting to disturb the stillness.
I nodded appreciatively for the little solace. He was busy in the kitchen, and I took out my phone to flip through the news. Already making news was Joan's arrest, and it felt
