Remo sat by Abby's hospital bed, the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor providing the only sense of normalcy in an otherwise chaotic swirl of thoughts. The doctors had assured him that Abby was going to be fine. The knife wound had been deep but not fatal. She was lucky—or so they said. But as Remo sat there, holding her hand while she slept, his mind was anything but at ease.
Nicole's words echoed in his mind, over and over: "She's dangerous! She's been planning this—she set me up!"
At first, the accusation had seemed absurd. He had stormed into the room to find Abby bleeding on the floor, with Nicole standing over her, hands covered in blood. It seemed straightforward—Nicole had attacked her. But now, sitting here, with nothing but the silence of the hospital around him, doubt gnawed at him like an insidious parasite.
