The sight nearly broke me.
I stepped closer. “Lily?”
Her fingers twitched slightly. That was all.
I sank into the chair beside her bed. “Sweetheart, I’m here.”
A tear slipped down her bruised cheek, and I felt something crack inside my chest.
Moments later, a surgeon entered carrying several X-rays. His exhausted face told me everything before he spoke.
“How bad is it?” I asked.
He placed the images on a light board. I stared. Fractures ran across her jaw like cracks spreading through shattered glass.
“Six separate breaks,” he said quietly.
I couldn’t look away. “Six?”
The doctor nodded. “One near the hinge. Multiple fractures along the lower jaw. Significant trauma.” His voice grew lower. “Whoever did this struck her with extreme force.”
I understood what he wasn’t saying. This wasn’t an accident. Someone wanted to hurt her. Badly.
“Will she recover?”
“We believe so,” he said carefully. “But she’ll need multiple surgeries.”
I swallowed hard, then asked the question that mattered most. “Who did this?”
The doctor sighed. “We don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“Campus security found her unconscious near the science building.”
I stared at him. “A university campus full of students?”
“Yes.”
“Security cameras?”
“We’re reviewing footage.”
“Witnesses?”
His silence answered for him.
I stood slowly. “You’re telling me my daughter was attacked near a crowded campus and nobody saw anything?”
The doctor looked away.
For the first time that night, something felt wrong. Very wrong. Because campuses have students, students have phones, and attacks like this don’t simply happen without someone knowing the truth.
As I looked at Lily lying helpless in that hospital bed, one question consumed me: Who was trying so hard to make sure nobody ever found out what really happened that night?
Part 2
