"I didn't hear what they did to Padma," Melinda said softly. She felt bad for that-- for not knowing. That was the real epidemic, that people didn't know.
Her hand reached out to take the mug, though it was still empty. Slowly she turned the cup against the dark wooden surface. "Physically," Melinda answered. "He... they beat him, drugged him. By the time I was able to see him, he was so..." Melinda paused for a moment, looking up at an invisible spot on the wall. She felt tears begin to sting her eyes. "They managed to patch together a confession somehow and made him believe that he was guilty. They made him believe it."