The word slammed into me like a punch.

Raped.

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. The small, dimly lit room suddenly felt colder, the faint smell of bleach now sharp and suffocating. Dina’s voice had been steady, but her hands clenched into fists gripping her skirt as she confessed. That was more than enough evidence.

I leaned back slowly, my mind spinning. "Raped?" I repeated, stunned. “Dina… who?” My voice came out quieter than I intended, almost afraid of the answer.

Her eyes darted to Vincent again. He was no longer sitting casually on the armrest. His shoulders had gone rigid, his jaw tight, that dangerous stillness in his eyes...