A medical professional was on the way to examine my eyes, and I'd already written down the sequence of events while the details remained fresh.
Helena stopped in the doorway.
For a moment, she simply looked at me.
Then she crossed the room.
“Camille.”
I stood.
She shook her head.
“I don't even know what to say.”
I took a breath.
“Then don't try to make it sound better than it is.”
Her eyes filled slightly.
She nodded.
“Fair.”
I handed her the incident notes.
She glanced toward them.
“You don't have to do this right now.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
I looked toward the window.
“Because I want the account written before my memory starts rearranging everything around the anger.”
Helena nodded slowly.
She understood.
We'd both seen witnesses struggle after frightening encounters.
Sometimes the first account was incomplete.
Sometimes details returned later.
Sometimes people remembered emotions more vividly than exact words.
Writing things down didn't make memory perfect.
But it helped establish a contemporaneous record.
Helena placed the notes in a folder.
“External investigators are being contacted.”
“Good.”
She hesitated.
“I've temporarily reassigned both involved officers away from patrol duties pending the appropriate review.”
I nodded.
“That makes sense as an interim safety measure. Make sure it isn't presented as a final finding.”
She smiled sadly.
“Already discussed.”
For a moment, we sat quietly.
Then I looked toward her.
“Helena, I want to ask something.”
“Anything.”
“Did the department announce my appointment properly?”
She looked surprised.
“Yes.”
“Did every officer receive the notification?”
“The message went out department-wide.”
I frowned.
“But not everybody read it.”
She sighed.
“Not yet.”
I nodded.
Then looked toward the window.
“That's not what I care about.”
Helena studied me.
“What do you care about?”
I took a breath.
“What Cole would've done if the badge hadn't fallen out.”
For several seconds, she was silent.
Then she whispered, “I know.”
I looked toward the garden.
The hose was still lying beside the flowers.
“Would he have arrested me?”
Helena didn't answer.
“Would he have put me in handcuffs because I wouldn't leave my own property?”
She looked down.
I continued.