The heavy front door clicked shut behind them, leaving the foyer silent.

The house smelled of damp wool, stale coffee, and the faint scent of my mother’s expensive perfume.

“Sadie, let’s go,” Wyatt whispered, leaning down. “We need to get to the station.”

I nodded, my legs trembling inside my jeans as we walked out to his car.

The rain hit my face, cold and sharp, washing away the heat of the argument.

We climbed into Wyatt’s SUV, the leather seats cold through my clothes.

He started the engine, turned the heater dial to high, and pulled out into the street.

“Are you holding up?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the wet Columbus roads.

“I am trying,” I said, watching the streetlights blur through the water on the windshield.

“Harper has the statements, Sadie. They can’t wiggle out of the assault charges.”

We drove in silence down High Street, the tires splashing through deep puddles along the curb.

When we entered the precinct, the bright overhead lights made my eyes water.

We sat on a hard bench in the lobby, waiting near the glass partition.