Page 9 of Control

Because on the inside, I was freaking out. I was panicking. Not enough that I’d stop doing my job, but enough to make me realize I needed to reconsider my approach on this specific story. I wanted to believe I’d gotten away fast enough, that nobody knew exactly what I was after, but I couldn’t be certain.

As soon as I was released and could get back to doing my job again, I was going to have to take extra precautions.

On the bright side, the injury to my foot wasn’t so bad that I was going to wind up on crutches. Of course, I had gone in for surgery, so it was still serious. One of the bones in my toe had been shattered, and the tendon severed. The accident itself had happened so fast, the force of the impact so severe, that I had no idea what specifically had caused the damage to my foot.

Fortunately, I didn’t lose my toe, and the doctor was able to repair everything. But I had six weeks of being in a walking boot ahead of me. I suspected I was going to need a few days to give my foot a chance to heal and to reduce the swelling.

I was going to have to spend the next few days coming up with a new plan of attack and hope that I could keep myself safe in the process. As long as I could avoid detection, I thought I’d be okay. The problem was that anyone I might attempt to interview could be a suspect, so there was no question that things could get dicey again.

But giving up wasn’t an option.

I had every intention of getting to the bottom of this mess. I’d never been the kind of person who could sit back and do nothing when I could use my skills to make a difference. I was going to do everything I could to figure out what happened to both Yasmine and Annie.

I blinked my eyes open, prepared to turn on the television in hopes of distracting myself for a couple of hours, but the sound of heels clicking down the hall outside my room had me stopping. My gut told me those heels were coming right to my room.

Seconds later, I learned I was right.

Rita scurried into the room. “Oh, my God, Alana. Are you okay?”

I offered a half-hearted smile. “I’m alright. I mean, this isn’t exactly convenient, but physically speaking, I’m going to be fine.”

“How bad are your injuries? All you told me this morning was that you had to have surgery on your foot. Honestly, I was so caught up in learning that you were in such danger that my mind couldn’t quite focus on the specifics of what actually happened to you. You told me something about your foot, but what about your head? You’re bandaged there, too.”

I nodded, lifting my hand and pressing my fingers lightly to the side of my head just above my eyebrow. “Luckily, this is nothing major. Just a cut.”

“Stitches?”

“No. Just a couple of butterfly bandages.”

Some of the tension eased out of her frame. “And your foot? How bad is it?”

“There’s some substantial swelling right now, and I’ll be in a walking boot for the next six weeks. But I guess after I get through these first few days and the swelling goes down,it shouldn’t be too bad. One of the bones in my toe was shattered and the tendon severed, but the doctor managed to get everything back into place. I’ll just need to take things easy for a couple of days, if that’s okay.”

“Of course,” she insisted. “Take the time you need. I wouldn’t rush back before you’re ready.”

While I knew she just wanted to be accommodating and understanding, it was almost as though she didn’t know me. “I refuse to take too long, Rita. I’ve got to get back to work.”

“You’ve got sick time, Alana. Don’t risk your recovery for an income.”

Pressing my palms into the unsupportive hospital bed mattress, I shifted my body to a more upright position. Even with the back of the bed up, it seemed I kept sinking down. “It’s not about the money. I’ve got to get back to work on these stories. There’s been no news on Yasmine. Unless she’s woken up since I wound up in my accident yesterday, someone needs to be searching for who assaulted her. And with the exception of whatever the authorities might be doing about Annie’s murder, nothing is happening there, either.”

Rita swallowed hard as her eyes cut away from mine. In an instant, I knew something was wrong.

My body tensed, and when I glanced up at the heart rate monitor, I noticed the number steadily climbing. “What’s going on? Has Yasmine woken up? Oh, God. Did she… Is she?—”

She shook her head. “No. There’s been no update on Yasmine.”

Rita’s voice was so small, so quiet.

Whatever was going on, it was clear she was uncomfortable with having to be the one to tell me. “Rita?” I called, my voice just a touch over a whisper.

She returned her attention to me, the discomfort she felt etched into her expression. “I really don’t want to do this to you right now.”

“Do what? What happened?”

Rita let out a deep sigh of frustration. “Alana, I’m so sorry, but…well, Dale made some difficult decisions today.”

Dale was the news director at the station. At the mention of him, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. “And?”

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