The words hit before the door even finished closing.
Cold hospital light.
Monitor beeping too slow.
A girl barely breathing under white sheets.
Her face—bruised.
Eye swollen shut.
Arm locked in a cast.
And beside her—
A mother in full military uniform.
Medals gleaming.
Standing perfectly still.
Too still.
“Who did this?”
The girl’s lips tremble.
Pain flickers across her face.
“…Dustin.”
Silence.
Not normal silence.
The kind that changes things.
The mother’s hand tightens on the metal rail—
knuckles turning white.
“Dustin?” she repeats.
A weak nod.
“They laughed…” the girl whispers.
That’s it.
Something inside the mother shuts off.
No anger.
No panic.
Just… cold.
She straightens.
Medals catching the light like armor.
“Look at me.”
The girl does.
“No more fear,” the mother says.
“No more tears.”
Her hand moves—
slow,
controlled—
She pulls out her phone.
“They made the biggest mistake of their lives.”
Dial tone.
Click.
“It’s me,” she says, voice low and final.
“Find Dustin. Now.”
She turns to leave—
But a weak hand grabs her sleeve.
Stops her.
The mother freezes.
Turns back.
Her daughter’s eyes are wide now—
not from pain…
From fear.
“Mom…” she whispers.
A breath.
“He didn’t just hurt me…”
The mother leans closer.
The room holds its breath.
The girl’s voice breaks—
“He took something… and if you find him…”
A tear slips down.
“…you won’t want to give it back.”
CUT.
Part 2 in the comments.
