--
Lena barely registered where her legs carried her; she only knew she had to get away—away from him, away from what had just happened, away from the hurricane of emotions tearing through her chest.
Her breath hitched painfully as she stumbled down the hallway, her vision blurring with tears she could no longer contain.
The corridor lights seemed too bright, too sharp, illuminating every humiliating detail: the torn fabric clinging uselessly to her trembling frame, the red marks on her skin, the residue of blood drying between her thighs, the way her hands shook uncontrollably as she held the remnants of her dress together.
When she turned the corner, Marla appeared, carrying a stack of freshly laundered towels. The woman froze so abruptly that one of the towels slipped from her han
