Vengeance

22

Seraphim's act of defiance had her expelled from the crime scene. Samantha decided it was best if she went to the hospital to interview the wounded victim. Exhaling, Seraphim mutters a thank you to the patrol officer and steps out of the cruiser.

"Want me to wait?" he asks.

Seraphim shakes her head. "No, you can go ahead."

He shrugs and shifts the car into drive. Seraphim treads over the spot it stood. She slips between two idling cars and steps onto the concrete sidewalk. The automatic doors, marked with the words entrance and various other warnings, part and a rush of artificial cold reaches out to envelop her.

Metro City General is the city's central hospital, the original structure dates back to the mid-1800s. The lobby, part of the recent renovation, is bustling with patients, visitors, and medical personnel alike. Seraphim weaves her way through the crowd to the elevator.

As she passes one of the halls spawning from the emergency department, she spies a familiar face. Jordan is pouring over a file in her hand, clad in sky blue scrubs, her ID badge, pinned over her right breast, bounces with each step. Her unruly hair is pulled back in a sloppy ponytail.

"Jordan," Seraphim calls.

She glances up at the sound of her name. "Seraphim? What are you doing here? Did something happen to Rebecca?"

"No, no, Rebecca's fine. I'm investigating last night's shooting, the one at the DA's house. I'm here to talk to the wounded victim. Do you know where she is?"

"I caught a couple of the victims that came in last night. Did you know any of them?" Jordan heads towards the elevators. She hits the up button and glances back at Seraphim.

Seraphim gulps. "Yes, Katherine Davis. She was a friend of mine," she replies, her voice strained.

"I'm sorry." Jordan lays a hand on her shoulder and gives it a comforting squeeze. Seraphim manages a small smile. The elevator dings. They look at it in time to witness the doors part. No one is inside, they enter and Jordan presses the button labeled 15. The light illuminates under her touch. She hits the doors close button and they draw together.

"If you need help, Rebecca and I are here."

"I know, thank you." Seraphim doesn't want to seem rude. Rebecca and Jordan are probably the closest friends she has aside from Angel, but this is something she must handle on her own.

The elevator signals it's arrival and the stainless steel doors open. They step out, parting around a waiting teenager. "The shooting is all anyone's talking about around here. All the critically wounded patients are either still in surgery or in the ICU. One of them I know for sure is still in surgery, bullet did a lot of damage to his leg, they're trying to save it, but the prognosis doesn't look good. There's only one up for conversation: Ashley Kashu. She's the wounded they're referring to on TV. She's sustained a gunshot wound to the shoulder, but it was through and through. She's all patched up. Time and some physical therapy and she'll be as good as new. You should know, she's sixteen."

"Sixteen? What the hell was she doing at a party like that?" Seraphim questions.

"She was with her mother, Marina. She's a lawyer, defends Changed rights."

"Yeah, I know who she is. She's one of the good ones."

Jordan smirks. "I guess we'll see if she thinks the same about you."

Seraphim chuckles. Jordan comes to a halt outside one of the rooms, the number beside the door labels it 218. Jordan knocks twice before cracking the door and peering inside. She pushes it all the way open, allowing Seraphim to enter. "I apologize for the intrusion. This is ADA Seraphim Rogers. She's here to speak with Ashley regarding last night's events." Jordan's words are directed at the couple seated on the couch a couple feet away from the hospital bed.