Blood on the Tiles

My heart hammers against my ribs like a trapped bird. The cold edge of the bathroom sink presses hard into my lower spine as Brielle corners me against the porcelain. The fluorescent lights overhead buzz with a steady, irritating hum that matches the ringing in my ears.

"I haven't done anything wrong," I whisper, my voice shaking despite my best efforts to keep it steady.

A dark, mocking scoff