I’ve seen the look that’s on her face plenty of times on rape victims, though something in the pit of my stomach tells me thisisn’t what I suspect. Alex and Mason look at Scott and I, though Alex’s eyes never leave me. They share the same expression, encouraging the rumbling in the back of my head telling me that isn’t some textbook rape patient.
Scott reads the situation quickly and silently hands me the med bag, which I take without looking.
“She’s skittish about men,” Mason murmurs low enough that the woman can’t hear. It confirms my and Scott’s assessment.
I’ll be the one taking the lead with this patient.
Scott heads to the detectives while I go to my patient. Her eyes scan the street in a fearful way that makes my chest tighten.
“Hey,” I say softly as I approach, dropping into a crouch in front of her. “I’m Liv. I’m a paramedic. Can I take a look at you?”
Her eyes snap to mine, bloodshot and terrified. “I’m fine,” she says quickly. Too quickly. “I told them I don’t want… I d-don’t-”
“It’s okay,” I interrupt gently. “I’m just going to make sure you’re alright to go home. That’s it.” While nonchalantly trying to talk her into going to the hospital and getting a rape kit done.
She hesitates, then finally gives a small, jerky nod.
I settle in more comfortably, propping myself on my heels, and start my assessment.
Up close, the details sharpen: scrapes along her palms, dirt ground into the skin of her hands and forearms like she tried to catch herself before hitting pavement hard, a small tear on the knee of her jeans, and the fabric of both knees darkened where it’s soaked through with a thin line of blood.
But it’s her arms that stop me. I reach out carefully. “I’m just going to check here, okay?”
She flinches before I even touch her, not subtle or instinctive, but anticipatory.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I assure quietly.
Another barely-there nod.
I gently turn her wrist and see exactly what I thought it was, faint but unmistakable finger-shaped bruising along the inside of her arm. Too sharp to be random or accidental. A clear grip that was tight enough to leave evidence. Tight enough to control her in a moment of terror.
My stomach drops.
“Did you fall?” I ask gently, keeping my voice neutral but giving her an out.
“Yes,” she says immediately. I wouldn’t have believed her answer even if it hadn’t stumbled out of her mouth too quickly to reconsider.
I glance up briefly, wanting to catch a glimpse of Alex and gauge his take on this, but the regular cop is blocking my view of him. He just gives me adon’t startlook that I take with a grain of salt.
So, I look back at her. “Okay,” I say it like I believe her even though I don’t. “Can you tell me your name?”
She hesitates. Her eyes flick past me, over my shoulder to the men standing behind me, likely still watching.
“Ma’am,” that same officer’s voice cuts in, a little sharper. “We’ve already asked you that.”
This guy’s starting to bother me.
“I… I don’t-” she stumbles out the syllables, then shakes her head. “I just want to go.”
“Not until you’re cleared,” he replies.
I grit my teeth, but I keep my focus on her.
“Hey,” I assure softly, drawing her attention back. “You’re safe right now, okay? I’m just going to check you out, and then we’ll figure out the next steps.”
Her breathing steadily speeds up, growing more shallow as her head darts around. She’s borderline hyperventilating at this point. “Can you take a slow breath for me?” I guide. “In through your nose… out through your mouth.”
She tries but fails. Then tries again. I count it out with her, steady and calm, like I’ve done a hundred times before. Eventually, her shoulders drop just a fraction. But it’s enough.
