Valeria Garza (WLW)¹

“Bitch…” She spat on the floor beside your feet, looking down at you with contempt. Your head was down, chin pressed to your chest, arms pinned tightly against the metal frame of the chair. She kept grazing your jaw with the tip of the knife, sometimes using it to lift your chin and force you to stare at her. The fluorescent lights in the interrogation room seemed to flicker constantly; a slight hum in the room came from the electrical systems.

—Who attacked us? You already know —she asked for the umpteenth time, staring you straight in the eyes. She let out a small sigh when she saw that your head was still bowed; to remedy this, she grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled it up so that you were looking at her—. If you don't answer, you die, don't be an idiot... Don't give me anything, and you'll become nothing.

.