Four: The Waiting Room

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Sparse fluorescent lights.

The accident and emergency waiting room, furnished with plastic chairs and tatty magazines, played host to only two guests that night.

He stalked in and out of the entrance, a can of Coke clenched in one fist.

The automatic doors opened and closed, the rhythmic whirs contrasting with her uneven stifled sobs.

She looked at the nurse tending to her latest injury; a deep cut. The nurse whose brown eyes pleaded softly for the truth.

Was it really another kitchen accident?

If only she could break the silence.

Then maybe he could be stopped from breaking her.

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