Regina stood in front of the cracked bathroom mirror and stared at herself like she was an enemy. “I can’t keep f*****g running,” she said aloud, her voice shaking but angry. “I’m not prey. I’m not his goddamn pet.”
Her reflection didn’t argue.
So she did the stupidest, bravest thing she could think of.
She went to the police.
The station smelled like old coffee, sweat, and indifference. The kind of place where hope came to die quietly. Every step she took felt heavy, like the floor itself didn’t want her there.
“I want to file a complaint,” she said, standing straight. “Against Daniel Warren.”
The room froze.
Every head turned.
One officer laughed. Actually f*****g laughed.
“You mean that Daniel Warren?” another asked, eyebrows raised like she’d just confessed to snorting coke of
