Baltimore Chronicles by Treasure Hernandez Read Free Book Online Page B

dripping down her face. “Please help me!” she squealed again.
    Everyone inside the bustling county hospital ER turned and stared at her. One lady put her hands over her mouth in shock.
    The triage nurse jumped up and rushed toward Tiphani. “Get a team!” she yelled into a small hand-held radio device.
    Tiphani screamed again, “They are gonna kill me!” and then she collapsed to the floor.
    A team of doctors and nurses rushed to her side. They worked together and hoisted her up off the floor onto a gurney. “She’s got a large laceration on the head,” the lead surgeon said to the team. “Appears to have bruising everywhere. Looks like somebody worked her over pretty good.”
    â€œHelp me!” Tiphani screamed, seeming to come back alive. Clothed in only a dirty, ripped white tee-shirt, she started thrashing her bare legs wildly. Her hair was matted, her entire body bruised, and the soles of her feet were filthy like she’d walked a thousand miles barefoot to get there.
    â€œStrap her down!” the doctor demanded as Tiphani bucked and thrashed wildly. “She appears to be going into shock!” The team rushed to strap her to the temporary bed.
    Once inside the examination room, Tiphani began screaming again, this time, just a high-pitched shriek.
    â€œWe need to sedate her in order to treat her,” one of the nurses said.
    After a nod from the doctor, the nurse skittered away to retrieve a syringe filled with a mild sedative. She plunged it into one of Tiphani’s thighs, and Tiphani’s body quickly went slack. She was knocked out.
    For the next hour, the nurses and doctors examined her limp body, her face riddled with bruises. Since she had no identification, the hospital staff treating her had planned to take fingerprints while she was knocked out so they could try to identify her.
    Before they could get a technician to take the prints, one of the nurses looked at Tiphani closely. She crinkled her eyebrows and mumbled to herself, “This lady looks very familiar. I know I’ve seen her somewhere before.”
    She rushed out of the room and went into the ER’s lobby. She ran over to the bulletin board that displayed all of Baltimore’s WANTED and MISSING posters. The nurse looked up and down at each row of pictures. “I knew it!” she screamed, snatching Tiphani’s picture off the board. She ran back to Tiphani’s room like she was on fire. “Doctor! Doctor!” she called out, waving the MISSING poster in front of her. “Somebody needs to call the police!”
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    Tiphani’s eyes fluttered as she came into consciousness. She could hear voices around her. “Help,” she rasped out.
    Somebody moved toward her quickly. “Mrs. Fuller?” a man said. “I am Detective Hanson.”
    â€œMmm, save me,” Tiphani croaked.
    â€œNo one can hurt you now, Ms. Fuller. We will protect you,” the detective said, standing at the side of Tiphani’s hospital bed.
    After a minute of staring at her, the detective got right to the point. “Ms. Fuller, do you know what happened to you? Who hurt you like this?”
    â€œThey hurt me. They said they would kill me. They said it was because of him,” she said through tears.
    â€œWho? Ms. Fuller, tell us who,” Detective Hanson replied, his eyes sympathetic.
    Detective Hanson was drawn in, and Tiphani knew it. She could tell by the concern written on his face that her Oscar-worthy performance had worked like a charm. She had everyone at the hospital fooled. Once again, Scar had steered her in the right direction. Tiphani had endured the most painful part of her role—the self-inflicted injuries?just so the entire plan would come together realistically.
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    Derek almost choked on his own spit when the breaking news report streamed across the TV screen and interrupted his daily dose of The Maury Show . The breaking news was