Annika relayed the story as Daniel simmered with anger. He was intimately familiar with a complete stranger harming someone he loved. Andy, too, looked about ready to punch someone.

“Did I get him?” asked Nilay, his voice a weak garble.

“No, Nilay. You did not.” Annika was in his face. “He got you instead. How many times have I told you—fists are not the way. But no, do you listen...?”

“Couldn’t let him get away with...”

“Yeah? Well, he got away—and he hurt you in the process.” Annika’s voice broke. Daniel put his good arm around her and held her close. She was shaking with fury.

“You gave him hell, kid.”

Annika glared at Daniel, but before she could speak, the ambulance had arrived at the ER. Nilay was taken directly up to pulmonary for surgery. Daniel and Annika followed.

They waited in silence for the elevator, Annika fuming. Once the elevator doors had closed and they were alone, she snapped at him. “Do not encourage this behavior!”

“He was trying to protect you, teach that asshole a lesson. I can’t fault him for that,” he snapped back.

“I was fine. And that asshole was taught nothing. You can’t change people’s minds with violence.” She paused, her nostrils flaring. “If you hadn’t been right there...” Her voice broke again.

“He’s going to be fine. He has to be,” Daniel said, reaching for her and folding her into his arms. The elevator doors opened.

She nodded and led the way to the waiting room, where Annika’s parents were just arriving, as well. Annika filled her parents in on what had happened.

“Who is the surgeon?” asked her father.

“I am.” They all turned to find Sajan standing in the door. “He’ll need a thoracostomy, but there’s a chance of pulmonary contusion, which may not show itself for twenty-four hours or more.” He glanced at them, finally nodding to Daniel. “Excellent work in the field. I’ll let you know when I have something.”

DANIEL SAT ACROSS from Annika and her parents, inhaling deeply to calm his nerves. Annika was right, violence was not the way, but if he had been in Nilay’s place, he would have reacted with his fists first, as well. It would have been satisfying to land a punch on at least one deserving asshole. He had no way to avenge Sara, but punching this guy would’ve felt good. He flexed his fingers, the ache from the knife wound filtering up his arm. Damn it.

He found himself fixated on the way Annika’s parents clung to each other, alternately reassuring each other and worrying aloud. He read the concern and panic in their eyes, the feelings they couldn’t mask even if they had tried. The “what if” hung heavy and unsaid in the air.