"Hey, Ma'am." A detective approached me in the medical room.
"We are really sorry for what happened to you. We will make sure this doesn't happen again."
I gently touched my neck, which was red and throbbing with pain. The imprint of his fingers still lingered on my skin. Finally, I responded, "Yeah, thanks, Sir." I took a deep breath. "What about him?"
"He is receiving proper medical care." The detective smiled, then pulled a small white card from his pocket and handed it to me.
Harry Raymond.
A business card with a name and phone number.
"If you ever need help, you can call me," Mr. Raymond said. "And I hope you won't refuse when I call on you for more information."
I reached for the card with a trembling hand. The pain still gnawed at my body, a haunting reminder of what had hap
