But Stacy wouldn't let it go. She clung to Miles's arm, her voice turning coy and petulant.
"No way. She came into our home and made this huge scene—smashing things, hitting people. I was terrified."
"You can't go soft on her just because she's an old classmate! She needs to be detained. We can't just let this slide."
I looked at Miles and let out a bitter laugh. What would he choose this time?
Miles avoided my eyes. He frowned but didn't push back. He just said quietly to the officer:
"Follow standard procedure."
That one sentence pushed me over the edge into the abyss.
I thought detention would just be a simple punishment. I had no idea that walking into that holding cell would be the beginning of my nightmare.
I hadn't been inside long before a group of women surrounded me, looking me up and down, their eyes full of mockery and contempt.
One of the women—a bleached blonde with a sneer to match—looked me up and down.
"So you're the homewrecker trying to climb the ladder?" She let out a sharp laugh. "How pathetic."
"Caught red-handed by the wife and tossed in here with the rest of us." She clicked her tongue. "Absolutely shameless."
My fists clenched at my sides, nails biting into my palms.
"I'm not a homewrecker!"
But my denial only made them laugh harder.
The next second, the blonde moved first.
She shoved me—hard.
Something snapped inside me. I lunged at her, eyes burning, and we collided in a tangle of fists and clawing hands.
Her friends jumped in immediately, yanking my hair, landing blows wherever they could reach. More fists rained down on my body, my face.
Pain radiated through my limbs, but the ache in my chest cut deeper.
The guards finally heard the commotion and rushed in, pulling us apart. We were all written up and warned—next time, the consequences would be severe.
After that, they didn't touch me again. But the mocking glances never stopped. The snide comments. The whispered insults.
I ignored all of it. Found a corner. Curled up. Waited.
Five days.
Five days I survived.
Walking out of that detention center, every step sent pain shooting through my battered body.
Miles was standing at the entrance.
When he saw me, he froze.
Then he rushed over, reaching for me but hesitating—like he was afraid of hurting me further.
"What happened? Where did these injuries come from?"