My hands began trembling.
"Can I see it?"
He looked toward Nigel.
Then back at me.
"Yes."
***
The video was grainy.
The timestamp read 11:43 p.m.
I watched a little girl lying unconscious on a hospital bed.
Her head was wrapped in bandages.
Her face was swollen.
I knew immediately that the child was me.
My throat tightened.
A doctor entered the room.
My father.
He spoke briefly to a nurse, then signed a document.
A few minutes later, another man appeared.
Tall.
Dark-haired.
Wearing a white coat.
Charles Rowan.
Nigel's father.
He carried a small medical case.
The footage had no sound.
I watched as he placed the case beside my bed.
Then another person entered.
A woman.
Her face was partly hidden by a surgical mask.
She approached the equipment table and exchanged something from the case.
Detective Collins paused the recording.
"Do you recognize her?"
I leaned closer.
