In the aftermath of Becca's unhinged attack, Charles and I can barely catch our breath before the next whirlwind sweeps us up. Police, paramedics, detectives—they all descend in a frenzied flurry to process the harrowing scene.
"I need to get statements from both of you," the lead detective says gruffly, already scribbling in her notepad as she surveys the shattered wreckage of the living room. "Just go over everything that happened, spare no details."
I take a shuddering breath, clinging to Charles' solid warmth beside me on the couch. Just recounting that brief slice of blind terror in my mind sends a violent tremor through me.
"We...w-we were just having breakfast," I rasp out shakily. "Then Marcus burst in, saying Becca was outside ranting and raving like a maniac. She was screechin
