I choked on water by the mouthful.
After they finished pouring water over the wet rag that covered my mouth, my shoulders jerked up, and I coughed until my throat burned. Tears streamed down my cheeks. My mind was heavy, broken. I wanted Constantino.
“What’d he make you do?” one of the men asked, pulling the rag off me.
“Nothing.”
“It didn’t look like nothing,” he growled, smacking me hard across the cheek. “What was it?”
“Nothing!” I screamed.
“Come on,” the other good cop cooed. “Give us something, Laila.”
good cop“f**k you!” I said, spitting at him.
If they thought they’d break me, they were wrong. I was already broken. I had killed my best friend. I had surrendered everything for a family. And these dickheads thought waterboarding me would force me to give up vital information
