I stepped back into the room and froze.
Sarah was already being helped into a wheelchair by a nurse, her movements stiff and unyielding. Her face was a mask of stubborn defiance, her red-rimmed eyes burning with a mix of grief and fury. Marina stood nearby, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her entire body radiating barely contained anger.
I turned to Marina, my voice calm but edged with curiosity. "What's going on?"
Marina's voice was sharp, her usual warmth replaced by a cutting frustration. "Oh, your precious Officer Sarah is leaving!" She gestured toward Sarah with a bitter sweep of her hand.
"She won't accept our help. Won't even let me call her a taxi—no, she had to do it herself! And now she's just… leaving!" Her voice rose, trembling with anger.
"After everything we've done for her! After I stayed up all night making sure she was okay! After you carried her here and paid for everything!"
