She looked tired, he could at least acknowledge that, but he wasn't in the mood to kindly help her play catch up. "She was raped when someone gave her the drugs, Rosalie. She thinks she had it coming because of things you and Daniel have apparently told her. Maybe they weren't in the past few days, but at some point or another, you put the idea in her head that she deserved anything she got."
He was angry, and he wasn't thinking straight, so the idea that Boyd had likely taken things Rosalie and Daniel had said and blown them out of proportion didn't click the way it should have.
His nails bit into his palms, sharper than they should have been. "I saw," he said shortly. He'd been trying not to think about it. "She says she let whoever it was give her the drugs. But they made the choice to take advantage of her after that, and they gave her more than she could handle. I need to know who they are."
It was a fruitless line of questioning. Obviously Rosalie was just figuring out now what had happened, and she seemed too out of it to really answer much of anything. Some of the anger went out of him, looking at the dark circles under her eyes. "You should go back to the building," he said. "You look like death."