Then she blinked once.
Yes.
The room went silent.
Officer Briggs looked as if the floor had shifted beneath him.
“That’s enough,” he said quickly. “She’s sedated. She doesn’t know what—”
I crossed the room before he finished.
I didn’t touch him. I didn’t need to. I stood close enough that he could see every year of war I carried behind my eyes.
“You have ten seconds to start talking.”
Briggs stared at me, his mouth slightly open.
Then, like every weak man caught between fear and duty, he chose the third option.
He ran.
He turned and bolted down the hallway.
I went after him.
The hospital corridor blurred past me. Nurses shouted. A doctor stepped into my path, but I moved around him. Briggs hit the stairwell door with both palms and disappeared inside.
By the time I reached the stairs, I heard his shoes pounding downward.
I followed.
Second floor.
First floor.
Basement.
The stairwell emptied into a service corridor lined with laundry bins and electrical panels. Briggs shoved through a rear exit into the ambulance bay.
Rain exploded across my face.
He was fast.
Younger.
Desperate.
But panic burns hot and short.
Training burns cold and long.
He slipped on the wet pavement near a loading ramp. His knee struck concrete. Before he could get up, I caught the back of his jacket and drove him against the wall.
“Who did it?” I growled.
“Let go of me!”
“Who?”
“I didn’t touch her!”
“But you saw.”
His eyes darted toward the ambulance bay cameras.
Smart. Or trying to be.
I lowered my voice. “You’re on camera now, Officer. So am I. Say something useful before you become the only man I have.”
His face crumpled.
“I can’t.”
“Wrong answer.”
“You don’t understand,” he said, breathing hard. “This is bigger than some drunk campus fight.”
My grip tightened.
His eyes filled with real fear then.
“They told us to stand down,” he whispered.
“Who?”
“Administration. Campus police chief. I don’t know how high it goes.”
“Why?”
“Because of who was there.”
Lightning flashed above the parking lot.
For half a second, the whole world turned white.
“Give me a name.”
Briggs shook his head. “If I do, I’m finished.”
I leaned closer. “If you don’t, you’re worse than finished.”