“What are you doing here, Meredith?” Samantha asked.
I smiled but said nothing. Samantha looked at Ryan James. She frowned.
“Did you do this to him?” she asked, moving forward but keeping the bed as a barrier between me and her.
She leaned forward, appraising her patient with a professional eye. She took in the sling on his arm, the cuts and bruises all over his skin, and the large bandage on his left shoulder. She reached over and carefully lifted a corner of it, and her eyes widened. She knew the truth.
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