“Enough. You stay here—I’ll talk to her for you.”
Michael blocked my way just as I heard a heavy thud behind us.
Daniel had fallen down the steps.
I turned back to see him clutching desperately at the same leg I had stomped earlier.
Blood soaked through, and the limb looked stiff, unnatural.
“What’s wrong with his leg?” I asked flatly.
Michael’s eyes flicked past me to Daniel, full of pity.
“It never fully healed. He can barely manage short walks.”
“He was working hard at rehab, but when he heard you were getting engaged, he rushed back without thinking.”
“Oh.”
I responded with indifference, then reached for my car door.
Michael frowned and pressed his hand against the door.
“Sophia, are you really going to watch him die right here on the steps of a police station?”
“Wouldn’t that just be what he deserves?”
