PART 2
The heavy footsteps stopped outside the apartment door.
For one strange second, nobody moved. Ryan stood beside the bed with his face drained of color. Linda’s mouth hung slightly open, as if the sentence she had been preparing had simply disappeared. My father remained where he was, chafar one hand still gripping the blue blanket, his eyes fixed on the dark marks I had spent months hiding.
Then someone knocked.
Not a polite knock. Not a neighbor’s uncertain tap.
A firm, official sound.
Dad folded the blanket back over me with a gentleness that made my chest ache. He did not look at Ryan again when he crossed the room. He opened the door to reveal two uniformed officers and a woman in a navy coat with a medical bag hanging from her shoulder.
“Colonel Bennett?” one officer asked.
Dad nodded once. “Thank you for coming.”
Ryan’s head snapped up. “You called the police?”
