Eleanor's POV
The world was a blurry, swaying mess in the back of the taxi. The streetlights smeared into golden lines outside the window, and every bump in the road sent a fresh wave of dizziness through me. To my left and right, Mira and Roxy were a cacophony of questions and slurred words, their voices piling on top of each other until I could barely think.
"I swear," Roxy growled, her words thick and unhinged, "if I'd gotten my hands on that slimy bastard who grabbed you, I would've rearranged his face until his own mother wouldn't recognize him! I would've used his spine as a backscratcher!"
The taxi driver's wide eyes flicked to us in the rearview mirror.
"Roxy, shhh!" Mira hissed, patting her arm clumsily. "I told you, violence isn't always the answer."
