Brooke Sterling — The Secret Behind the Military Lighter
The next hour was unlike any hour I had lived through before.
A nurse drew the curtains and dimmed the lights.
Another asked whether I wanted to speak with the hospital’s social worker.
A doctor checked my neck and asked questions gently, without letting Frank answer for me.
I explained what had happened the week before, how Colton had squeezed my throat, how he had released me only when I stopped struggling.
The doctor grew serious.