Jossy whimpered, drifting in and out of consciousness, her head falling weakly against his shoulder. Every sound she made only deepened the fury boiling in his veins.
Noah carried her through the hallway and didn't stop until he got her to the car, laying her gently across the back seat as Jerry drove out of the driveway.
At the hospital, everything blurred into the chaos of white coats and clipped voices. The emergency staff rushed her into triage, carefully cutting away the black dress that clung to her bloodied skin, and dressed her in a gown.
Nurses and doctors surrounded her as they moved in and out of the room.
Jossy sat hunched on the hospital bed, the gown crinkling beneath her. Her dress was sealed in a large brown bag on the counter, folded with a care. She pulled her knees closer to her chest, trembling despite the warm air.
The ER doctor, a middle-aged woman, stood at her side with a clipboard. "Jossy, I'm just going to check for any injuries that need immediate attention. Things like broken bones, internal bleeding, or anything that could put your health at risk right now. After that, we'll bring in a nurse who specializes in forensic exams. Is that okay?"
Jossy nodded faintly. Her throat felt dry. She wanted to say no, wanted to curl up and vanish, but a part of her knew this was necessary.
The doctor carefully examined her ribs, her touch firm but careful. "Bruising here," she murmured to herself. "Tenderness on the left side. No fracture that I can feel, but we'll do imaging to be certain." She checked her pupils for concussion signs, then carefully looked over her arms and wrists. "You're safe now. We'll make sure you're okay."
When the doctor stepped back, another woman entered the room, dressed in hospital scrubs with a badge that read SANE Nurse, Forensic Services. Her voice was soft, but businesslike.