Elena knelt several feet away.
“Harold, don’t move yet.”
He looked at her.
“Elena?”
“Yes.”
“Hip?”
“No.”
“Head?”
“I don't think so.”
“Did you hit it?”
“No.”
She looked toward Reyes.
“Call EMS anyway.”
“They're coming.”
Nancy knelt beside Harold.
“I told you not to stand.”
Harold closed his eyes.
“I heard yelling.”
“You should have stayed put.”
“I wanted to see what you were doing.”
Nancy froze.
Elena looked away.
Harold opened his eyes again.
“You went after her over the blower, didn't you?”
Nancy said:
“Not now.”
“Yes, now.”
“You fell.”
“Because I’m stubborn.”
“That doesn't mean—”
Harold looked toward Elena.
“Did she grab you?”
Nancy’s face went still.
Elena did not answer.
She did not need to.
The marks on her arm were visible.
Harold closed his eyes.
“Oh, Nancy.”
Two paramedics entered.
Elena stepped back.
The assessment suggested no fracture, but Harold agreed to go to the hospital because he had struck his shoulder and was taking blood-thinning medication after the stroke.
Nancy rode with him.
Before leaving, she looked at Elena.
For once, she had no accusation ready.
Only exhaustion.
Reyes waited until the ambulance pulled away.
Then he spoke with Elena.
“You still want to make the report?”
Elena rubbed the scratches.
“Yes.”
Not because she wanted Nancy arrested.
Because she was done pretending escalation did not matter.
Reyes nodded.
The citation would be handled according to local procedure.
There might be a misdemeanor assault allegation.
There would definitely be documentation.
Then Elena said:
“There’s something you should know.”
Reyes looked at her.
“What?”
“Harold doesn't hate the blower.”
“What do you mean?”
Elena looked toward the empty ambulance lane.
“He’s actually the reason I use it more often.”
Chapter 5: What Harold Had Asked Elena to Do
Two months earlier, Harold had knocked on Elena’s sliding door while Nancy was at a medical appointment. He was using his cane, not the walker, and Elena immediately noticed how slightly his right foot dragged.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
Harold smiled.
“Depends who you ask.”
He asked if she still worked in physical therapy.
“Sort of.”
“That means yes.”
Elena invited him to sit.
Harold explained that he hated the walker.
Elena told him everyone hated walkers until they needed one.
He laughed.
Then asked whether she could look at the shared path behind their patios.
Wet leaves collected near the drain.
He had nearly slipped twice.
“I don't want Nancy knowing.”
Elena frowned.
“Why?”
“She'll turn it into another reason I can’t go outside.”
That sentence stayed with her.
Nancy loved Harold.
There was no question.
But after the stroke, love had changed shape.
She checked everything.
His medications.
His shoes.
His schedule.
His steps.
His naps.
What began as necessary care had slowly become control.
Harold felt himself disappearing inside it.
Elena had walked the path with him.
“You need the walker outside.”
Harold rolled his eyes.