I felt a cold anger simmer inside me, one that was not new but had been nurtured by years of subtle manipulation and emotional bruises. Greg had always been good with words, using them as knives to carve away at my confidence and independence, but now, his words were his undoing.

“I’m not sure what you think you heard, but—” Greg started, desperation seeping into his voice.

Detective Reed cut him off with a raised hand, his expression impassive. “Save it for your lawyer, Mr. Davison. You have the right to remain silent,” he began, his voice firm and unyielding as he recited the Miranda rights.