Salome’s POV
"You gave that man eight years of your life, Salome, and that counts for something," Clementine said, her voice soft as she gripped the steering wheel.
I didn't look at her. I watched the city lights blur into long, neon streaks against the glass of the car window. My body felt heavy, like my skin was made of lead. Every bump in the road sent a dull throb through the purple and yellow bruises blooming across my ribs.
"It counts for a very long lesson," I replied. My voice sounded thin, like paper tearing.
"Do you want to go straight to the apartment?" Clementine asked. "I can stop for tea. Or something stronger."
"No. I need to get the statement over with first. If I sit down now, I might never get back up."
Clementine nodded and took a sharp turn toward the precinct. Th
