𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

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𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐊-𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋

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𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐊-𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋


        THE NIGHT BEFORE had all felt like a blur to Phoebe, although she knew it wasn't. Dawn was currently at a nearby hospital in DC, in very critical condition. Dick and Phoebe decided to go and visit her at the hospital, see how she was doing. Dick had insisted that Phoebe get checked out since she could barely walk the night before, but she promised him that she would be fine. Her body was now covered from head to toe in cuts and bruises, nothing she hadn't had before. 

        Phoebe and Dick stood at the door to Dawn's recovery, Phoebe holding a bouquet of flowers she had gotten from the gift shop in her right hand. Hank was seen sitting right next to Dawn in her bed, holding her hand. 

        Dick knocked on the door, grabbing Hank's attention. Slowly, Hank walked over to the door, opening it. He grabbed Phoebe's flowers before closing the door behind him to talk. "Hank, I'm sorry. If we hadn't-" Dick started, but immediately Hank cut him off. 

        "Who were they?" Hank questioned. Phoebe could see the hurt in his eyes, almost on the verge of tears. "What the hell do they want with Rachel?" 

         "I don't know." Dick answered, making Hank look over and Phoebe, raising an eyebrow. 

        Phoebe shook her head. "No clue." Quickly, Phoebe glanced over at Dawn, who was hooked onto many medical machines and tubes. Looking back at Hank, her eyes started to gloss. "Please, just take care of her." 

        Hank sent Phoebe a soft smile. It wasn't much, but it was there. "I'll find them," Dick added in, reassuring Hank. Hank licked his lips, and without another word he walked back into Dawn's room. 

        Suddenly, Dick's phone started to ring. He looked at the caller id and groaned. "It's work." Phoebe nodded at him, insisting he should answer. Pressing answer, Dick put the phone on speaker so Phoebe could listen. "Grayson." 

        "Don't sound so excited." A woman spoke from the other line. 

        "Sorry. Caught me at a bad time." 

        "I thought you'd be on a beach sipping on a pina colada by now."

        "Yeah," Dick scoffed. "Something like that. What's up?"

        "Forensics came back on the Roth murder weapon. There are prints, but they don't belong to your girl, Rachel Roth. Traverse city P.D called for you this morning about her." 

𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐋 ~𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐒𝐎𝐍~Where stories live. Discover now