Page 89 of What Comes Around

“Do not hide from me,” he said softly.

I closed my eyes.

A few minutes later the doctor returned with the results.

He paused when he saw Knox and looked at me. “Are you comfortable with him staying in the room?”

I nodded.

“There’s no bleeding in your brain,” he said. “That’s the most important thing.”

Some of the tension drained from my chest.

“You do have a mild concussion,” he continued. “Your nose is bruised and likely cracked, but it’s stable. We’ll put a support bandage on it for about a week to help it heal.”

He gestured toward my eyes.

“The bruising under your eyes comes from small burst vessels. It may look worse over the next few days before it improves.”

I nodded slowly.

“You should be able to go home tonight,” he said. “But you need to rest. No strenuous activity for at least two weeks.”

He glanced between us before adding, “Someone should stay with you tonight, just in case the symptoms worsen.”

Knox’s grip on my hand tightened slightly.

“She won’t be alone.”

The doctor gave a small nod, satisfied, and finished noting something in my chart before leaving the room.

About ten minutes later, two police officers arrived to take my statement. Knox stayed beside me, his hand still wrapped around mine.

I told them everything I remembered. My voice steadied as I spoke. The officer nodded, asked a few clarifying questions, and promised they would review the security footage.

He also told me the man had been taken into custody. The other security guard who intervened had held him until officers arrived, and he was now at the station while they processed the charges.

Hearing that made something inside me loosen, just a little. I hadn’t realized how tightly I had been holding myself together until that moment.

“How did he get into my parking garage?” Knox growled. “It’s supposed to be secured. Only registered cars pass the barrier.”

The officer kept his tone calm. “We’re looking into that. We’re checking the entry logs and the camera feeds. We should know more soon.”

Knox did not look satisfied, but he did not push further. His thumb brushed slowly over my knuckles, grounding me again.

“You will need to come to the station in a few days,” the officer added. “We will need a formal statement.”

I nodded, relieved I did not have to do it tonight. My head was pounding, my face throbbing, and the thought of sitting in a police station felt impossible.

Knox looked at the officer. “I’m taking her home.”

The officer gave a short nod. “That’s fine. Just make sure she rests.”

I let out a slow breath as the weight of the day settled deep into my bones.

I was safe.

I was alive.