Becky’s POV
Paul sat across from me, his face a mix of anxiety and resolve. Weeks had passed since I was freed from the grip of my prior tormentors, but even as my outward wounds healed, the inside scars stayed resolutely unbroken. Though the swelling on my face had gone down, and the bruises had faded, the psychological damage was still very real.
As Paul struggled to put my scattered recollections together, I could see his irritation. Becky, we must discuss what happened to you. Anything you recall could enable us to identify the perpetrator.
My throat was dry. I glanced at him. As I considered the shards of anguish and anxiety still affecting me, my heart surged. "I... I wish I could remember," I said, my voice a little above a breath. But it's like trying to grab the smoke. Everyth
