“Dog’s been like that all night?” the younger detective asked. “Didn’t move an inch,” Elena replied. “Barely blinked.” The detective crouched near the glass, studying him. “He’s waiting for her to give a sign,” she murmured. “He’ll know before we do when she wakes.” Her partner gave a half-smile. “I’ll take the nurse’s word over yours.”
They gathered names and times, replaying the night minute by minute. Elena described the moment the doors opened—the sound of rain, the smell of mud, and the disbelief that hung in the air. “I hope whoever did this to her is found and punished,” she said quietly. The older detective nodded. “We won’t spare any effort.”