“I hit my head.” Factually true, given the pain in the back of her skull. “Who are you?”

“Your nurse. And no, you were hit,” the nurse corrected.

She had been hit. When? Who?

But the answers, like scrambled puzzle pieces, would not seam together. “Where’s my sister?”

“She’s outside. She wants to see you.”

“I want to see her.” For Avery’s sake, she tried to open her eyes, but the lids were so damn heavy.

“Don’t try to open your eyes,” the nurse said. “It’s better they stay closed.”

“I need to see Avery. To show her I’m fine.”

“The doctor is updating her now,” the nurse said. “We’ll let her in soon. First, you need an MRI.”

“Avery has to go to work. And I have a new shift soon.” What time was it?

“No one is going anywhere, Detective Poe.”

Hours later, when Jordan opened her eyes, the MRI was an unpleasant memory. She had been too weak to argue about being put in the confining tube, so she’d pretended she was lying on the beach, canopied by blue sky and not the metal inches from her nose.

Now, back in her room, her brain was not slamming against the side of her skull like it had been. But it felt bruised and tender. Her tongue remained heavy and thick.

A hand rested on her arm. “Stay still, Jordan.”

“Avery?” Jordan asked.

“Yep, it’s me.” She sniffed. Cleared her throat.

“You sound upset.”

“Just a little rattled. You know I don’t like hospitals.”

“How did I get injured?” Jordan asked.

“You were attacked.”

The memory danced on the edges of her brain. “By who?”

“They don’t know. Ranger Spencer found a billy club near you. Your blood was on it. He’s investigating.”

“Spencer is a dick.”

Avery laughed softly. “He seems okay to me.”

“I should be investigating.”

“Not this go-around.”

“Why not?”

Jordan tried to sit up again. But whatever tentative agreement her body had brokered with the pain dissolved, and her skull throbbed in agony. She sank back against the pillows and kept her body steady until she could negotiate a new truce.

“Why is the room so dark?” Jordan asked.

Avery hesitated. “It’s dark outside.”

“How long have I been here?”

“Twelve hours.”

“What? That can’t be right.” An IV tugged at her arm and a nearby machine beeped.

“You had to have surgery. You had a brain bleed,” Avery said.

“But I’m okay, right?”

Avery’s warm fingers gripped hers. “Yes. You’re alive, and the rest will come in time.”

“What rest?” Jordan asked.

“There’s going to be rehab,” Avery said carefully.

Jordan wiggled her toes and fingers. “I can move. Avery, turn on the lights so I can at least see what’s going on,” she said.