“They’re trying to protect you.”
“By showing up here every day and trying to force me to talk to them?” Sarcasm laced her tone. “It doesn’t feel like protection. More like pressure.”
“I know.”
“Did you enjoy it? Sitting there and spilling your guts, while some unfeeling cop took notes?”
“No, I didn’t.” She leaned forward and touched Elaine’s hand. This time, the girl didn’t pull away. “I hated it. I hated all of them. Except Annette Hanson. She was a cop, the only cop who was patient with me, who didn’t force me to talk, didn’t force me to do anything. She relocated to Indiana a few months ago, which is a shame. You would’ve liked her. It was Annette I finally confided in.”
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