Tyler bursts into a roar of laughter. “Holy shit, you’re right. There’s not enough ketchup in the world that would make that taste good. Is there even any seasoning on it?”

“No,” she says, appalled. Everleigh rips the foil off the top of the apple sauce. “At least this can’t be messed up. I draw the line at instant sweet tea. Like you know it’s supposed to be sweet tea, but it tastes like dirty water.”

I make a face, and it brings me back to the nasty coffee the prison offered. Hard pass.

Moments later, Everleigh pushes away the tray, and a cop enters.

“Please tell me you have my release papers,” she tells him, and that’s when I notice it’s the same guy who took the report the night of the accident.

“No, ma’am. I’m Officer Proctor. I’m glad to see you’re awake this time.”

“Am I under arrest?” Everleigh teases. “At this rate, it might be the only way for me to break out of this place in a timely manner.”

“No.” He chuckles. “I’m here to get a statement from you so we can finalize the report on your case. We take this violent act very seriously, and we’d like to find who’s responsible for doing this to you. We’ve gotten some information from your roommate already, but now that you’re awake, I wanted to see if you could add anything that might be helpful.”

“I only remember the night before I was attacked. It’s like my memory was erased.”

“Traumatic experiences typically do that,” he explains, then pulls out his card. “If anything comes to mind, please call me. We ran the license plate to figure out who it’s registered to, but it’s under an LLC, so we can’t determine who’s been driving it. I’ll contact you if we find anything else out.” He reads out her cell number. “Is that correct?”

“Yep, that’s right. Thanks,” Everleigh tells him.

“You’re welcome. Get to feeling better. We’ll be in touch.”

Everleigh continues flipping through the channels after the officer leaves. After she’s watched two full episodes of Friends, she huffs. Before the third one ends, the nurse enters with her discharge paperwork.

“Sorry it took so long. Just needed a few signatures, and it’s hard to track people down these days.”

The woman goes through all the disclaimers, follow-ups, and privacy acts. After Everleigh has signed her name several times, the nurse offers to get a wheelchair to bring her downstairs.

“Can you help me change?” Everleigh asks her. If Tyler weren’t here, I would’ve been happy to assist.

“Sure.” She turns and looks at Tyler and me. We stand, knowing it’s time to leave the room.