Before Scarlett fully registered the moment, something cold clamped onto her wrist: handcuffs. The officers wrapped her bloodied hand with makeshift bandages to stop the flow, their actions efficient but painful enough to draw sweat from her brow. Drenched in pain and humiliation, she whispered as they led her away, “It wasn’t me.”

No one heard her—no one cared to hear. Matthew’s attention had already returned to Olivia, who fainted into his arms. He lifted her ...