Selena’s POV
The hard, wooden chair dug into my thighs as I perched on the edge, my gaze fixed on the detective's cubicle. Tension filled me, causing a constant feeling of unease. After seeing that news report—the one that finally confirmed the fake doctor's capture—I had rushed here, desperate for an update, craving the certainty of knowing whether I'd get my money back.
Around me, the station had descended into a mess. A crowd of angry victims had taken over, their voices rising in a noise of shouts and demands. They shoved and pushed a disruptive mob spilling out from the confines of the small waiting area. The detective, a balding man with a large belly, stood behind his desk, one hand raised in a useless attempt to quiet the storm.
I considered myself lucky to have secured a seat,
