STEPHAN
I do not remember leaving the office.
One moment, Rick was standing in front of me, pale and tense saying Jasmine had been rushed to the hospital. Next, the world had already moved on without me, and I was in the car.
The city blurred past the windows in streaks of light and noise. Rick was on the phone beside me, answering questions I didn't understand. I barely registered the words. All I heard was the same sentence repeating inside my skull.
"She was pushed."
My hands were clenched so hard my knuckles went white. My nails bit crescents into my palms, and I didn't loosen them. Panic kept tightening, turning each breath into an effort.
How badly was she hurt?
Was she conscious?
When the car stopped at the emergency entrance, I was out before the door finished opening.
Nurses flowed past me, brisk and practiced, until they saw my face. I walked straight to the nearest receptionist.
"Where is she?" I asked.
