IMOGEN'S POV
The quiet room smelled like stale coffee and disinfectant. Detective Martinez sat across from me at a scratched metal table, her notepad open between us. She had the kind of face that looked permanently tired, like she'd seen too much of the world's ugliness.
"Let's start with the basics," she said, clicking her pen. "Is David Matthews Kent the father of your son?"
"No."
She scribbled something down. "But you're married to him?"
"Yes." The word tasted bitter. "Though I'm planning to divorce him."
Detective Martinez looked up from her notepad and let out a short laugh. "Another divorce? Really?"
Heat flashed through me. "Yes. Is there a problem with that?"
She shrugged, like my life was some kind of joke. "Just seems like a pattern."
I bit back the first three responses that came to my mind. All of them would have gotten me thrown out of here, and I needed to get Joseph home.
"Look, Mrs. Kent," she continued, not bothering to hide the judgment in her voice.
