Christian and Vic were grappling, arms and legs, each getting off a punch. An alarm blared as two officers joined Christian, all three of them struggling to subdue Vic. He was a formidable opponent, his body a weapon he wielded with maximum efficiency, punching and kicking, thrashing on the ground. The officers were shouting and cursing, their words indecipherable. It took seconds, but felt like ages until they were finally able to flip him onto his stomach, pinning his hands behind his back. Cuffs snapped around his wrists and he was pulled to his feet, his eyes darting around the room. He spotted Wishard, who was leaning against the table, still woozy from her assault. He lunged again. “You lying fucking bitch. Mo said you would lie. She said you would make up all kinds of lies. She’s innocent. She didn’t do anything. Do you hear me?”

This was his last gasp at defending the only mother he ever knew. As the two officers dragged him out of the room, he spat at the floor, his final fuck-you to Wishard.

An uneasy silence lingered once he was gone. Becca on one side of the glass, Wishard, Christian, and another officer on the other. Someone had switched off the sound. Becca could see Wishard wasn’t pleased with the attention she was receiving, waving off their attempts to sit her down. She motioned for the other officer to leave and he relented. Wishard bent over, picking up her files, which were scattered across the room. Becca watched as Christian reached out for her, his hands gently inspecting her neck and face to make sure she wasn’t injured. His hands caressed her face, Wishard’s expression softening. She leaned into him, and let him hold her.

Becca suddenly felt very uncomfortable watching this intensely personal moment. She forced herself to look away. Now that Wishard was okay, Becca focused on what Vic had said.

He’d exonerated Mo, which meant they’d still need proof she was guilty. Ash’s testimony would be crucial. Becca’s mind drifted to the worst-case scenario, and what might happen if Ash didn’t pull through. She shook away the thought. She wouldn’t underestimate Ash.

The door slowly opened, and Becca turned to see Wishard returning, carrying her file folder, acting as though it were business as usual.

“Joanne, don’t walk away from me. First, you need to see a doctor. Then you need to file a report. This assault has to be on the record,” Christian said, almost shouting. He didn’t even acknowledge Becca, his focus solely on Wishard.

“I told you I don’t want you micromanaging this. I said I’m fine. Now you can have a seat while Dr. Ortiz and I talk, or you can leave.”