Zid

The morning light felt heavy, as though the world itself pressed down on her chest. Her hands shook uncontrollably as she wrapped her shawl tighter around herself. Every step toward the police station felt like stepping into fire—her body was trembling, her throat dry, and her heart racing with fear.

The night before had left scars that words could barely hold. She had been violated, stripped not just of her safety but of her sense of self. The memory replayed endlessly, and every breath seemed to drag her deeper into panic. When she reached the police station, she almost turned back. Inside, her voice cracked as she spoke, trembling, “I... I need to file a complaint.” Tears filled her eyes, but she refused to let them silence her. Her fear was real, but so was her determination. The officer listened, writing down the details.

Zid watched closely, the woman he had violated last night is here. He almost laughed at her courage - or foolishness? He walks upto her with a glass of water, "you should have some" he says assertively.