I pushed the heavy front door open, the cold wet air hitting my face and shocking my system.

I reached my car, my hand trembling so hard I could barely press the key fob.

As I sat in the driver’s seat, staring at my reflection in the rearview mirror, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

The screen illuminated the dark cabin of my car.

It was a text from Daniel: *Where are you? Michael says you left. Call me right now.*

I let the phone slip between the passenger seat and the center console.

I put the car in gear, my left hand gripping the steering wheel while my right pressed a spare napkin from the glove box against my bleeding temple.

The rain smeared across the windshield, the wipers scraping rhythmically against the glass.

Every bump in the road sent a sharp, throbbing spike of pain through my skull.

When I pulled into the ambulance bay at County General, the bright halogen lights made my vision blur.

I left the car parked in a red zone and stumbled through the automatic sliding doors of the emergency department.