“Mrs. Norah,” Melody’s doctor greeted Melody’s mother with a comforting hug. “I’m so sorry,” she sympathized. “Have you seen anyone like I suggested after Caroline’s death?” 

     “No, Dr. Bryant,” Mrs. Norah said quietly as she shook her head. “I haven’t had time for such things.” 

     “Make time,” Dr. Bryant encouraged, “and make an appointment for Melody, as well.”  

     “I will. I’d like to see her now,” Mrs. Norah replied anxiously. 

     “Of course,” the doctor replied and motioned for them to follow. “I’ve given her something to calm her anxiety, and I’ve increased her medication for the pain. She should be able to speak with you, but please don’t expect too much.” 

     “Does she remember anything else after speaking with the officers?” wondered Amy as they walked. “Like maybe if she found out who he was?” 

     Dr. Bryant shook her head. “She hasn’t said any more than what she’s told us, but there’s certainly more. She’s too distraught and in shock right now. After the officers left her room, she only stared out the window to watch the rain. When I asked if she would like me to increase the dose of her pain medicine, she only nodded. 

     I’ll return when my rounds are done to see if she or you need anything,” she told Mrs. Norah. 

     Amy stayed back as the others began to enter the room.  

     “I don’t know what to say,” she said quietly.  

     They turned around and Lauren rejoined her. 

     “Just be yourself,” she told her. “She likes it when you’re bubbly and silly.” 

     Amy tried to return Lauren’s smile but it was too hard. She hadn’t the slightest idea how she was supposed to be cheerful at a time like this. 

     “Come on,” Lauren coaxed as she grabbed her friend’s hand. “She needs us.” 

     The group entered together after Mrs. Norah.  

     Melody was half-way sitting up in bed looking out into the dawn darkened by storm clouds and steadily pouring rain. It was the first time Lauren had seen her, and she tried not to scream at her appearance. 

     The nurses had cleaned away the blood and filth, but the swelling was alarming, and bruises and cuts would be there for a while. There were still dried streaks of mud in her dark blonde hair, and her blue eyes were red and swollen from the assault as well as crying. 

     Her hands and wrists were wrapped in bandages, and Lauren could only assume it was from more abuse or Melody fighting back. 

     She was hooked up to an IV, which delivered blood to replenish what she’d lost, nourishment, and anti-anxiety and pain medication. 

     Lauren ran to the bed side and tried to hug her. Melody winced in pain at the contact, forcing Lauren to back away in concern. 

     Melody patted Lauren’s hand for her caring gesture, then looked over to see the others.  

     “Mom,” she whispered.  

     Mrs. Norah hurried to the other side of the bed and sat on the edge. 

     “How are you, my sweet girl?” she asked as she held her daughter’s hand. 

     “I don’t know,” she said hoarsely, though tears spilled down her cheeks. “Where’s dad?” 

     “Home in bed,” her mother answered. “Yesterday’s treatment was hard and he needed to rest. He doesn’t know yet.” 

     “I don’t want him to know, Mom,” Melody replied in a pleading tone. “I don’t think he could take it right now.” 

     Mrs. Norah smiled sympathetically at her daughter and squeezed her hand.  “Melody, you don’t have to be strong for anyone. You just worry about yourself.” 

     Melody faintly returned her mother’s smile and decided not to argue. She didn’t have the will or the strength to mix words with anyone. All the fight she had was used on her attacker.  

     “Oh, Melody, we’re so sorry,” sobbed Bridgette as she and Amy fell to the bed in tears. 

     “We never should have let you out of our sight,” Amy cried.  

     Melody reached past Lauren to pat Amy on the back as she hunched over the side of the bed with Bridgette. 

     “Don’t you dare blame yourselves for this. You didn’t do this to me,” she reminded them. 

     “But it wouldn’t have happened if we had stayed together like we were supposed to,” choked Bridgette through sobs. 

     “Stop,” Melody pleaded. “I need my friends right now, and this man doesn’t need anyone taking his responsibility.” 

     The two said nothing more but continued to cry until there was a knock at the door. 

     “Yes?” called out Mrs. Norah. 

     The door opened half-way to reveal two men in dark suits. 

     “May we come in?” asked one with salt and pepper hair. 

     Everyone noticed the shiny badges hung from their jacket pockets, so Mrs. Norah waved them in. The men walked toward the bed and the three friends moved aside for them to stand near Melody. 

     “Melody Taskle, I’m Detective Salvatore from Homicide,” the first man introduced himself with a compassionate smile. “This is my partner, Detective Fang,” he introduced the younger of the two. 

     “Hello, ma’am,” the dark-haired man said with a small smile. 

     “Have you already given a statement to the police?”  Det. Salvatore asked. 

     She nodded her reply as she hoped she wouldn’t have to repeat it. 

     “They said detectives from special crimes would be coming,” Mrs. Norah remarked. 

     “They’re on their way, ma’am,” Det. Salvatore replied. 

     “Why does Melody have to talk to you if she’s already given a statement to the other officers?” asked Bridgette. 

     “Detective, she’s exhausted, upset, highly medicated for the pain, and doesn’t want to keep reliving what happened,” Mrs. Norah explained their concern. “Can’t you refer to their notes?” 

     “Are you Melody’s mother?” asked Det. Fang. 

     “I am,” she replied with her chin held high. 

     Although she wanted to do all she could to help catch her daughter’s attacker, she would refuse to leave the room if asked. 

     “We understand what your daughter is going through, believe me,” Det. Fang said. “We’re the lead detectives on the two previous cases, and Melody can help us stop this man. 

     I know it’s difficult to recount what happened, and I’m sorry to say we aren’t the last people who will require hearing it. We have to catch him, ma’am,” he explained with regret over Melody’s ordeal.  

     “I’m sorry for what you’ve been through, miss,” he spoke to Melody once again, “but since you’re the only surviving victim, we have to ask you difficult and personal questions.”

     Melody took a deep breath. She looked at her mother and her friends. 

     “Mom, can you please leave with them,” she said with a motion toward the others. “I don’t want to say these things to any of you. Not yet. Please,” she nearly begged when her mother started to protest. 

     Mrs. Norah squeezed Melody’s hand and nodded. She didn’t want to leave her daughter alone during the personal questions she knew the detectives would ask, but she knew the importance of her statement.