I knew Sarah was a loner. She lived alone, kept to herself, and had no one to lean on. The thought of leaving her to navigate this alone gnawed at me, but I pushed it aside for now. She needed space, but she also needed care—whether she'd admit it or not.
Sarah's gaze flickered toward Marina, who was carefully pouring soup into a bowl, the steam rising in delicate curls. Sarah's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she spoke, her voice barely above a murmur.
"Marina… I'm sorry about last night. I didn't mean to—" She swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around the edge of the blanket. "If you want to file a complaint against me, I understand."
Marina paused, the ladle hovering over the bowl. She shook her head, her expression softening. "Officer Sarah, I don't blame you." She set the bowl down and met Sarah's gaze.
"I know my husband can be… difficult. He has a habit of teasing people, but trust me, he'd never hurt you. He was just being his usual idiot self."
