“I don’t care about the bills, Daniel,” I said, standing up slowly with Rachel’s firm arm supporting my weight. “And I certainly don’t need your protection anymore.”
Within minutes, flashing red and blue lights illuminated the living room windows. Heavy footsteps echoed on the porch, followed by firm knocks before the front door swung wide open to reveal two uniformed police officers and an emergency medical technician.
Rachel stepped forward to brief the lead officer, handing over the digital recording device and pointing directly toward the bloody dressing on my side. The officer listened intently, his expression hardening as he looked across the room at Daniel, who stood trapped against the refrigerator with his hands raised defensively.
“Mr. Miller, step away from the counter and place your hands behind your back,” the officer instructed, his hand resting securely on his utility belt.
Daniel was handcuffed and led out through the front door without offering another word, his head bowed as neighbors watched from their lighted windows.
