Battle Wounds

nine.

Harper cast her eyes around the interrogation room that felt too much on the small side. The buzzing fluorescent lights cast a dim light around the windowless room, and the brick walls that had once been painted white were now a muted beige from years of neglect. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she looked straight ahead at the only decoration in the room: a two-way mirror that took up the majority of the wall. She caught her reflection just then, startling herself with how absolutely hollow she looked. How small and disheveled. She brought her hands up to smooth down her hair but the tug of the handcuffs stopped the motion immediately, the metal painfully digging itself into her wrists.

Sighing, she placed her arms back down on the cold metal table and eyed the handcuffs that kept her rooted in place. The reality of what she'd done started to set in now that the adrenaline has worn off. Terrifying thoughts entered her mind, each one worse than the last. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and slowly let it out as she tried to control her rapidly beating heart. The action that had once calmed her did nothing to ease the fear coursing through her.

Harper lifted her eyes across the table to where a police officer sat, a hard expression on his otherwise young face. Possibly a rookie who let the power of the badge feed his ego. A Manila folder rested before him with what most likely contained her entire life. Documents of past mistakes and bad decisions that were documented from everyone's point of view but her own. Nothing but a cruel reminder of her past.

"How much longer is this going to take?" Harper heard herself ask. It felt like she'd been sitting in that room for hours though it easily could've been no more than thirty minutes. Time was nonexistent in a place like this. She had no idea just how much time had passed but, if her spiking anxiety was any indication, it was too long.

The cop quirked an eyebrow. "You got somewhere to be?" He asked with a smirk, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned back in his chair.

Harper threw a look his way, biting down the sarcastic remark that would surely get her into more trouble. "I'm just wondering."

He chuckled dryly. "Oh, I doubt you'll be going anywhere anytime soon," he told her, his tone taking on a jovial tone. It was clear that he was enjoying this, taunting her. He opened her file and his smile grew with each turn of the page. "You've got quite an impressive record, don't you? Running away, multiple counts of theft, assault."

Harper wanted to defend herself, explain away everything in that file though it would do no good. Her version of the story didn't matter to them as they were quick to judge her. She was never the victim, always the aggressor.

"And now you just added a couple more things to your rap sheet. Destruction of property, assault with a deadly weapon -"

"It was a golf club," Harper spoke up with a glare, ignoring the voice that told her to be quiet.

The cop smirked again and leaned forward conspiratorially. "Between us? I think you'll be going away for a long time."

Harper swallowed though her throat was desert dry. It was bad, and she was in trouble. She knew it. Of course, she knew it. Despite her efforts of burying the memories, her mind assaulted her with flashes of that afternoon. Of the golf club repeatedly smashing down on the car. Of Ryan yelling at her to stop. Of the absolute hate and heartbreak that consumed her. The entire event had taken no more than a couple of minutes but it had been long enough to rip her life to pieces. And now she was paying the price.

She was staring at her future and watching it slip away.

Before she could fully process everything, the door opened and her attention was brought to a familiar face. A friendly face. She smiled in relief at seeing Shane though it was short-lived. He looked her way, not meeting her eye though his grave expression gave everything away. The weight of the world, her world, was on his shoulders once again. And it was weighing him down.