“Go,” Margaret told them, turning back to me.

“I will stay here and handle the officers,” Margaret said.

“I will secure the restraining orders against Nathan and Sloane tonight,” she said.

“You focus on your daughter, Elizabeth,” Margaret said.

“I will,” I whispered, my voice cracking.

They wheeled me through the heavy metal doors into the concrete parking garage.

The air here was cold and smelled of exhaust and damp cement.

The ambulance was parked near the exit ramp, its red and blue lights painting the gray walls.

They lifted the gurney into the back of the vehicle.

The paramedic climbed in after me, immediately hooking up a monitor to my finger.

“Your heart rate is very high,” he said.

“Try to take deep breaths through your nose,” he said.

Through the open back doors of the ambulance, I could see the exit ramp leading up to the street.

The rain was coming down in sheets, obscuring the streetlights outside.

Then, a sudden flash of light caught my eye.

A pair of headlights appeared at the top of the ramp, heading down into the garage instead of out.