"You're hurt this badly," he said, his voice low and sharp. "Did your parents do this?"
"Mr. Baird, you're here!" Quintina shot to her feet, then glanced at her friend and clarified, "It was that rotten old man and his useless son!"
The station chief saw Joseph and came over to greet him. Joseph exchanged a few brief pleasantries before getting straight to the point. "I'm taking her to see a doctor first. You can take her statement later. We'll probably need to get her injuries documented anyway."
Vivica looked up at him, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. It was exactly what she had been thinking.
Quintina nodded vigorously. "Yes, yes, she needs to go to the hospital. I think she might have internal injuries."
The police, of course, deferred to Joseph's request and quickly prepared the necessary paperwork. Quintina helped Vivica to her feet.
From the other side of the room, Zebulon and Zahar, who were waiting to be questioned, started protesting.
"She came at us with a knife! Why does she get to just leave? Are you police officers showing favoritism?"
"You beat your own daughter until she looks like this, and you have the nerve to complain?" an officer snapped back. "Get in there. Time for your statement."
Having seen the family's true colors, the police had little patience for them.
...
Once outside, Quintina and Vivica walked to Joseph's car.
Joseph turned to Quintina. "You are—"
"Mr. Baird, we met once at the hospital. I'm Quintina Christie, Vivica's best friend. And you don't know me, but you definitely know my uncle. I was the one who asked him to find you to handle Vivica's divorce. And it proves I'm a genius, because you are amazing!"
Quintina was a social dynamo. Her rapid-fire speech left Joseph looking slightly awkward, momentarily forgetting what he had been about to say.
Roderic stepped in. "Ms. Christie, please get in the car. We'll head to the hospital now."
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