The police cruiser's flashing lights illuminated the dormitory hallway as officers pushed past curious onlookers. I watched the scene unfold on the livestream being broadcast across the city's news networks, feeling strangely detached.
The camera panned to show Adrian Thorne's door being pounded on by officers. "Mr. Thorne! Police! Open up!"
When the door finally swung open, I wasn't prepared for what the camera revealed. Adrian wasn't alone. Genevieve stood there, her hand raised mid-slap, frozen like a statue as she realized they had an audience.
"You stupid, ungrateful boy!" she shrieked, seemingly oblivious to the police. "A letter of forgiveness? For that wretched girl?"
Adrian's face was already red with a handprint blooming across his cheek. When he spotted the officers, relief washed over him.
"Thank god you're here," he breathed. "Please, get her away from me."
The lead officer stepped forward. "Adrian Thorne?"
