Page 13 of Sam's Salvation
“I suspect it’s just a bad contusion. I’ll have another look, but I didn’t see anything concerning. All your scans were clear. You’re a lucky woman. You escaped with little damage.” He came toward her and pulled a penlight from his pocket. “Let’s check your pupils. They looked good when you were brought in, but your extended time unconscious has me a bit concerned.”
“I’m fine. You said my scan looked all right. My brain likely just decided it wanted the sleep. I don’t do that much.”
He hummed. “Humor me. Follow the light with your eyes.” He drew a cross in the air with the light, and Audra did as he asked.
“Good. You have a bit of a horizontal nystagmus. Is that normal for you?”
“No.”
“Okay. Nystagmus isn’t uncommon after a head injury. It should resolve on its own with time. I would recommend you see an ophthalmologist, though, if it’s not improving after a few weeks. They can recommend some eye exercises and run other tests to pinpoint the problem.”
“Oh. All right.” She wasn’t too worried about it. That might be because she still wasn’t thinking too clearly, however. The pounding in her head and the fire in her hip were taking up most of the space in her brain. The rest was concerned with the state of her op. Who tried to kill her? And why? Did someone find out who she was? How? And more importantly, who? She never slipped up. Outside of her house, she was Alexandra. Audra ceased to exist.
“The police would like to talk to you. Do you feel up to it?”
Audra closed her eyes and drew in a breath. She didn’t, really. But the sooner she got them off her back, the sooner she could get out of here and figure out what happened. “Sure.”
“They’re right outside. While you speak to them, I’ll work on getting you situated. I’d like you to stay for observation. Hang on.”
A frown drew her brows together. Observation? “Wait, I?—”
The doctor stepped out before she could fully protest, and she broke off with a low growl. She did not want to stay here tonight.
A moment later, two police officers came in. One wore plain clothes and had a badge hung around his neck. The other was in uniform. The man in plain clothes brought the rolling stool over and sat down beside her bed.
“Hello. I’m Detective Closterman.” He flipped open a small notebook and clicked a pen. “Can you tell me your name?”
“Amber Carter. Look, I know you have questions, especially with the items in my pockets. Before I say anything, I need to make a phone call.”
The detective lifted an eyebrow. “To whom?”
“Just—someone who can help.”
“I’m going to need more than that. An attorney?”
“No. And no, you don’t need to know more.”
He blinked, startled at her push back, and stared at her for several moments. “Are you an American citizen?”
“No.”
“What are you doing in the United States? Do you live here?”
“I do.”
“Why?” He crossed his arms.
“Why what?”
“Why do you live here?”
“Work.”
He rolled a hand. “What kind of work?”
“Marketing. Where’s my phone?” She was done answering his questions. She needed to talk to Dee.
He cast a quick look at the officer by the door. “We have it.”