The engine of the sedan ticked, a rhythmic, metallic heartbeat that echoed the thrumming in Nancy's temples. Outside, the world moved in a nauseating blur of neon blue and red.
Nancy gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles bone-white. Through the rain-streaked windshield, she watched the precinct doors swing open.
Two officers, looking like giants in their tactical gear, hauled a frantic, disheveled Violet toward the intake entrance. Behind them, Ace followed in cuffs, his usual arrogance replaced by a hollow, frantic stare.
Nancy felt a jagged laugh catch in her throat. Justice looked so small from behind a dashboard.
Her body was screaming a visceral, deep-tissue howl that no amount of willpower could silence. She had lied to Ruby, looking her straight in the eye with a practiced, serene smile. "I'm clean, Ruby. The cravings are gone," she'd whispered, playing the part of the grateful survivor.
