“Yes.”
“Did you see the condition of it?”
“Yes.”
“Was it slippery?”
The officer paused.
“Not particularly.”
That answer gave me a small opening.
“So why are we treating this like she imagined it?”
He looked uncomfortable.
“We’re not dismissing her statement. We’re investigating.”
“But you believe him.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Before he could answer, a voice came from behind me.
“Daniel.”
I turned.
Ryan.
Standing in a hospital hallway.
Dry clothes.
Clean shoes.
Not a scratch on him.
And that was the first thing I noticed.
My daughter had spent who knew how long in freezing water.
But the man she said pushed her looked completely untouched.
He gave me a sad expression.
The kind people use when they want everyone around them to think they’re the victim.
“Daniel, I’m so glad you came,” Ryan said softly. “This has been a nightmare.”
I looked at him.
“Where were your hands?”
His face changed.
