The streetlight cast down from an angle above me.
A tall figure stood there, backlit, his face unreadable. "…Evelyn?"
I looked up. It was Nathan.
He approached quickly, his eyes still holding that lingering affection from before, now clouded with sharp, frantic concern. When he saw my face, his steps quickened into a run. He crouched in front of me, eyes tight with alarm, his hands hovering—trembling—as if he didn't know where it was safe to touch without hurting me further.
"What happened?" he asked, his voice incredibly tender. "You're hurt."
He said my name. Something inside me finally gave way.
"You—" My voice shook. "You recognize me?" "Of course I do," Nathan said without a second of hesitation, his tone as heavy as a vow. "Evelyn, I could never forget you."
That was it. I broke.
The sound tore out of me—raw and shaking. He pulled me up from the curb, one arm firm around my shoulders, steady and real.
"Come on," he said quietly. "We're going to the hospital."
Clutching his sleeve, I told him everything between sobs—the helper, the shove, being dragged out like a criminal. With trembling hands, I pulled the ID the officers had handed back to me from my pocket and held it out to him.
I'd stared at it until my vision blurred. Her face. My name.
Nathan took the card, glancing at it under the dim yellow glow of the streetlight. His brow furrowed deeply, his expression turning grim as he flipped the absurd piece of plastic over and over, as if searching for a crack in the lie.
When I finally ran out of words, he held me there, his voice low and certain.
"This isn't right."