“Okay, and I’m also going to need you to drop that book. We don’t need any more projectiles for right now. I promise if you still need to throw books after we go to the bathroom, you can.” Imogen put a supporting hand underneath Rinn’s elbow and helped Rinn off the floor. Rinn didn’t resist or try to protest. She dropped the last book in her hand. That had only been The Woman in the Window, so Imogen didn’t even mind that one being left crumpled and collapsed on the floor.

Imogen half propped up Rinn the entire way to the bathroom, past a stunned Jo and all the way down the stairs, toward the break room. Rinn was still half-limp in Imogen’s arms, but she still kept putting one foot in front of the other until she got to the back.

Walking into the employee bathroom felt like returning to the scene of the crime, in some way. There was still a light dusting of her hair along the edges of the floor. Imogen hated that Daniella had been right about that. But the hair was the least of Imogen’s worries right now.

Imogen turned on the cool water on the tap. She held back Rinn’s perfect curly hair. “I’m going to need you to splash your face with that, okay?”

Rinn was still crying, but it was more of a whimper and less of a sob. She nodded again, then she leaned over and practically submerged her head under the tiny faucet, which, honestly, shouldn’t have been possible given the size of the sink. Rinn took a startled breath as soon as the cold water hit her face. Her breath shuddered, and then she dunked her head again and began using her hands to splash her entire face. Rinn let out some breaths—Imogen couldn’t tell if they were shock from the cold or from the change in states. To go from crying to not crying was in and of itself startling.

Imogen had forgotten. It had been so long since she’d cried. She’d been so sad, but she hadn’t cried in ages. Hadn’t let it out. Had simply held on to the sadness until it was all consuming.

For a while, the only noise in the room was the running of the tap and the water splashing across Rinn Olivera’s face. She pulled herself up from her final submerge under the tap and—with a face dripping with water and melting mascara and a few wet pieces of hair—Rinn sputtered out, “Brock Harvey is a fucking creep.”

Imogen nearly dropped Rinn’s hair. “What did he do to you?”