Eden’s POV

This police station is colder than the last one I was in. I inch back into my chair, clinging to Dante’s jacket while Ryder manages to get me a cup of coffee from the break room. They hang back, pacing through the small interview room while I sit at the cold, metal table.

My heels tap on the concrete floors methodically, and I hold the coffee cup just to feel the warmth of it in my palms. My head has been spinning for the last few hours.

No one ...