Sharlene sat silently as a police officer calmly questioned her, likely verifying her alibi and determining whether she was involved in the assault on her friend.
"According to the hospital CCTV, you were seen leaving around noon and returning at midnight—the timeframe during which Ms. Atienza was attacked. Can you explain where you went and why it took you so long to return?" the officer asked.
Sharlene sighed, recalling the events. "I went to my grandmother's house to rest for a while and spoke with some people I know there. I also called my two siblings for a meal, which delayed my return to the hospital. I arrived before the incident occurred. You can confirm this with Martin—I caught up with him then," she explained calmly.
The officer studied her expression before presenting a piece of broken mirror.
"This was the weapon used in the assault," he said.
Sharlene said nothing—she truly had no knowledge of the attack.
"We also received reports that you and Ms. Atienza had a recent argument. Can you clarify your involvement?" he asked again.
"None, sir," Sharlene replied firmly. "I was already back at the hospital, and later, I saw Martin visiting my daughter Ashley."
Just then, Martin entered the station. The officer turned his attention to him.
"Is it true that you saw her in the children's ward that night?" the officer asked.
Martin nodded without hesitation. "Yes. She arrived before the incident. I saw her before visiting my daughter, and afterward, I went to Sheila's house."
"Did you see anyone suspicious near Sheila's residence?" the officer continued.
Martin shook his head. "No. We just heard Sheila screaming in her room. When we went in, she was injuring herself—crying and smiling at the same time. It was disturbing."
"A self-inflicted attack, then?" asked a lawyer observing the interrogation.
"Yes... it seemed that way," Martin said, though clearly unsettled.
Sharlene remained quiet, still unsure of what to make of the surreal events.
"Let her go for now," the lawyer finally said, "but she's still under investigation."
The handcuffs were removed. Sharlene rubbed her wrists and quickly left to return to the hospital.
She arrived to find Tashia speaking with a familiar man.
"Tashia," she called.
"Sister," Tashia said, turning to her. Sharlene's breath caught as she recognized the man standing in front of her.
"Lawrence," she murmured.
"Can we talk privately?" Lawrence asked.
Though confused, Tashia nodded and excused herself to watch over Ashley.
Lawrence gently guided Sharlene to the waiting area so they could speak in private.
"Why are you here?" Sharlene asked, surprised by his sudden appearance.
"I was planning to visit you at school. Word gets around—you've made quite a name for yourself as a teacher." He smiled warmly.
"I'm sorry I haven't responded to your messages. I've been... overwhelmed," she admitted.
"I understand. We all have our own lives." He leaned back and studied her face. "I also heard about your daughter..."
Sharlene tensed. "How did you know?"
"I stopped by your school and found out you were on leave. I put the pieces together," he replied gently.
Sharlene gave a small nod. "Yes. I took time off to care for her."
"I also heard she's in a coma. How can I help?" he asked.
Sharlene didn't answer immediately. Those really are children, she thought to herself.
"Don't blame Tashia—I pressured her to tell me," Lawrence added. "May I see your daughter?"
Sharlene nodded, leading him inside. Tashia looked up in surprise at the unexpected visitor.
"How is she?" Lawrence asked as he looked at the sleeping Ashley.
"Her wounds have healed. The clot in her brain is slowly dissolving," Sharlene said, gently touching her daughter's cheek.
"If there's anything I can do, just say the word," he offered, his tone filled with sincerity.
"Thanks, but don't worry. She's recovering—I'm just waiting for her to wake up."
"Please, Sharlene," he said softly. "Don't shut me out. You've always been my friend. I don't have anyone else."
Sharlene just smiled. "You know I'm stubborn. I'll let you know if I need help."
Lawrence chuckled. "You haven't changed. I'll go now. But you know where to find me."
She nodded, watching as he left.
"Sister, who was that?" Tashia asked.
"An old friend. My first friend, actually—Lawrence Martinez Salazar."
Martinez?
A strange feeling crept into her thoughts.
Could he be related to Leah Martinez?
"Tashia, stay with Ashley. I need to ask him something."
She rushed out and saw Lawrence just before he entered the elevator.
"Lawrence, wait!" she called out.
He turned and waited.
"Can we talk? I have a question," she said, breathless.
He looked surprised but nodded.