Ashley sat at the very far end of the cold, dimly lit cell she had been thrown into, her back pressed against the damp wall, her head bowed low. She looked like a shadow of her former self, lost, broken, and drowning in pain.
Her once carefully styled hair was now disheveled, strands sticking out in every direction, while faint bruises, cuts, and scratches marked her skin, telling the story of the chaos that had unfolded just hours ago.
Every part of her body ached, but the pain within her chest was far worse.
She sat there silently, replaying everything that had happened at the boutique over and over again. The humiliation. The betrayal. The way
Evans had looked at her…
Like she was nothing.
Like he had never known her.
Like he had never been the one to call her and ask her to come.
