Shazia started, setting her bag down and getting up from the stool to comfort her friend. I got there first, the bed creaking as I sat down next to CiCi, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and pulling her trembling body closer to me. She cried into my t-shirt as Shazia shot me a worried look. I hated when CiCi cried and I hated that I had something to do with it this time. Self-loathing filled me as I ran a hand through CiCi’s soft hair. Those bruises on her face- they were there because of me. CiCi corroborated my gut-feeling, but she didn’t put the blame on me. “He saw you drop me off that morning,” she said, her voice muffled by my chest. “I don’t know, maybe he was going out and just happened to see me get out of your car. Maybe he was lying in wait.” She shrugged. “But he saw and- he said he would teach me a lesson.” Shazia gave a revolted snort. “He basically ambushed her right by the elevator on the ground floor. What kind of pig beats an innocent girl up in full view of whoever might be passing outside?”
