Dr. Hart looked away for a moment, giving us the privacy of silence.
Then she straightened.
“We need imaging immediately. Before that, because this was an assault, I want a forensic nurse to document every injury.”
“Yes,” I whispered.
The nurse arrived carrying a camera, evidence bags, and a stack of forms.
She photographed my face from every angle. The swelling. The cuts. The bruises beginning to rise beneath my skin.
She sealed pieces of my bloodstained dress in a paper bag.
“We’ll preserve everything properly,” she assured me.
“Please keep all of it.”
“We will.”
“And write down what I say.”
The nurse nodded.
“My father attacked me because my fiancé refused to leave me for my sister.”
The sentence sounded impossible when spoken aloud.
Yet every word was true.
While they prepared me for the CT scan, a police officer entered the room. He introduced himself as Detective Aaron Beckett.
