It was a miracle that the woman had made it out of the park alive. Her dress, once bright, was muddied and torn, threatening to expose her chest, which still shuddered with the occasional stifled sob. There were the beginnings of a bruise around her neck where she'd been choked, one of her eyes was nearly swollen shut, and blood oozed from her scalp where a patch of her long blond hair had been torn out. Her body shook; she had a red-stained handkerchief gripped tightly in her hand.
“Don't worry,” said the burly detective as five men were led in, “it's one way glass. Can't see you on this side.”
The largest of the five, a hulking brute with tattoos curling across his face, looked closely, “That's the one, all right. Thanks for catching her. Mind if we finish it here, Detective?”
“Be my guest,” he said, and unlocked the door.
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