As she sat on the cold iron bench inside the interrogation room, her hands cuffed and pain weighing heavily on her chest, she asked in a tired voice to call her husband. She picked up the trembling phone and dialed the number she had memorized by heart. The moment she heard his voice, the words burst out of her as if they had been trapped for hours.

– “I... I’m at the police station.” She said it in a faint voice, barely audible from how shaken she was.

His voice came through, anxious and incredulous: – “What? "Who is that bastard who dared to touch you?"