THEY TOOK ME to the hospital. X-rays were performed. I was told to keep my talking to a minimum. Then a familiar face entered my room. The detective from the Georgetown station of the state police. When I saw him, my throat tightened again, but it was only nerves.
“Hello, Mr. Snyder. How are you feeling?”
We were alone, so I ignored the doctor’s suggestion and spoke.
“I’m okay,” I said. “Can I … uh, help you?”
“I was wondering if I could ask you a couple of questions.”
When I tensed, it caused a pretty good coughing fit. A nurse rushed into the room and checked my throat. She checked my splinted finger too. I wasn’t sure why.
“I’m not sure visitors are such a good idea,” she said to the detective.
He flashed his badge, and she looked at me. I said nothing, still worried about what he would ask. I wondered if I needed an attorney present. If I asked, though, I would look pretty guilty.
“Okay, this can wait,” he said, turning toward the exit.
“No,” I blurted out.
“Mr. Snyder,” the nurse said.
“I’m fine,” I said, and I think my voice sounded stronger than it had. “I’d like to do this now.”
Reluctantly, the nurse left us alone again. I stared up at the detective, trying to keep my eyes from closing.
“Am I in trouble?” I asked.
He laughed. “Should you be?”
“No,” I said, halfheartedly. “Then why do you want to ask me questions?”
“I just need you to go through what happened this evening. I’ve already interviewed Zora Monroe.”
I leaned forward and coughed again.
“Is she okay?” I managed to get out.
“She’s fine,” he said, smiling. “And very thankful.”
“Really,” I said.
“Shouldn’t she be?”
I shrugged. “She’s a tough one.”
“I could see that. Can you just tell me what happened?”
I paused, thinking for only a second. Then I told him everything, from the time I’d arrived at the parking lot to the moment I looked at Jasper’s ruined face. He took notes, and as I wound down, he nodded.
“Okay,” he said. “Would you mind if I took a photo of your neck?”
“Uh, sure.”
He snapped a shot using his phone.
“Was Zora hurt?” I asked.
“Not bad.”
“Is she here?”
“No,” he said. “She refused treatment at the scene. Let me ask you one thing, Mr. Snyder. How did he find you?”
I didn’t answer immediately. He slipped his phone into a pocket and moved a few steps away. I swallowed, and it felt like I had a bird caught in my throat.
“He didn’t,” I said carefully.
“Then how—”
My eyes fluttered. “I’m not feeling well. Can we do this another time?”
His eyes narrowed. A beat later, his smiled returned.
“I understand.”
The detective left. I tried to close my eyes, but it felt like the lids were connected to an exposed power line. I knew it was nerves, anxiety, whatever someone might call it. I didn’t, however, know why. I could have just told him some of the truth. That Jasper had used me. That he had been hunting Miracle. It was all innocent. For some reason, however, I didn’t feel that way. Innocent, I mean.
After an hour of fidgeting in my bed, I fell asleep. I don’t think they needed to keep me in the hospital, but some of my vitals were still off. Thankfully, they left me alone. And I slept for over thirty hours. It wasn’t until I woke up that I realized just how big it had all become. How much my life had literally changed overnight.