I decided to contact Rachel.
“Do you remember the hospital after my accident?” I asked.
“Of course.”
I sent her Hannah’s photo.
“Have you seen this woman?”
After a long pause, Rachel replied, “Yes. I remember her from the hospital that night.”
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She then apologized for leaving me after the accident and asked if we could meet for coffee.
“Rachel, I don’t hate you,” I replied. “But that part of my life is over.”
Her apology had given me something more important: confirmation that Hannah had been there the night I was injured.
I called the hospital and asked for Nancy, the nurse who had helped care for me.
When I showed her Hannah’s photo, she recognized her immediately.
“Poor girl,” Nancy murmured. “She still feels guilty about what happened to you.”
“Guilty about what?”
Nancy quickly backtracked, saying she couldn’t discuss it.
