*Lena*

Heather was pacing back and forth across the living room of our apartment, her face screwed up in a vicious scowl. I was sitting on the couch, my cheeks tear-stained and the tender skin above my left breast throbbing painfully as Viv held my hand, toying with my fingers to mask her own nerves.

“And he didn’t even walk you home?” Heather spat, her face flaming with fury.

I choked back a sob and nodded, to which Heather replied by ...