The Manor House

"What have we got?"

"Black female, age 48, multiple contusions, broken ribs, possible internal bleeding."

Shandi heard the words and wondered how the paramedic and doctor knew so much about her condition. She wanted to speak, to tell them that she was actually 47 and that she was all right and wanted to go home. This was just one big misunderstanding and she was sure that Donnie would be sorry. He always apologized. He was such a gentleman.

"Did the cops get the fucker who did this to her?"

"No. He called 911 then left. Get this, she's the A.D.A.'s wife."

"Colvin's wife? This is Shandi Colvin?"

Yes!

Shandi tried to shout but her jaw was throbbing with intense pain. She raised her hand to touch it but the paramedic pushed her arm back down, making sure that the I.V. tube didn't get tangled. Why wouldn't he let her touch her face? Maybe it was worse than she thought. She tried to open her eyes and was upset to find that her left one wouldn't cooperate. Heat seemed to suffuse her face and she struggled to force it open. What was wrong with it?

"Yeah, and it was Colvin that did this to her."

"No shit!"

You don't understand!

Shandi shook her head, tears escaping down her cheeks. Why didn't they understand that it was her fault? If she had never said anything about the size of his penis, this would never have happened. She knew that he was sensitive about his small cock and she knew that would set him off but she was just so mad. Not only had he broken their marital vows but he had gotten another woman pregnant, something she'd been desperately trying to do for the entire length of their marriage.

"His career is pretty much over."

"I'd say!" The female doctor leaned over her and checked the dilation of her pupils, avoiding the swollen orbit with a grimace. "I'm glad that they changed the law and that they'll press charges on him."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because she won't."

"How do you know that?"

"She's been in here before for treatment and always turned down help. He's a sick fuck, Colvin is. He likes cigarette burns especially."

Tears oozed out of Shandi's unobstructed eye as she listened to the strangers talk about her. What hurt the most was that they were absolutely right. How many times had she been in the emergency room this year? How many bruises, how many contusions, how many black eyes and broken blood vessels? But it wasn't Donnie's fault. It was hers. They had to understand that. It was her fault.

"God, I can't believe we've got someone like that in the D.A.'s office."

"There are worse than that in there, believe me." The doctor held the doors to x-ray open so that the paramedic could wheel the gurney inside. "I've already called Robbie."

"Good. I'll just leave you with her then."

"Thanks for the help, Andy. James and I can take it from here."

"No problem, Cyd."

Shandi heard footsteps depart and then two pairs of hands were transferring her onto a table. Pain radiated through her body and she opened her mouth to scream but a tiny whimper escaped. The radiologist, James, dipped his head into view, moving the camera over her face and lining the salient points in the crosshairs. The doctor, Cyd, placed a heavy lead bib over her chest area and the taking of x-rays commenced, ending nearly forty-five minutes later. The result: three cracked ribs, two broken fingers and a wrist that looked like a Picasso painting on x-ray film.

The worst of the injuries was the eye. The occipital portion of the eye socket was shattered and surgery was immediately required. Preparations were made and Mrs. Shandi Colvin was wheeled into OR2 approximately twenty-two minutes later. It was nearly midnight when the orderlies wheeled her into Room 362, completely anesthetized and oblivious to the workings of the world around her.

She certainly would have been surprised to discover that there was a uniformed officer posted outside her door as well as a dark-haired woman who was arranging a bouquet of field flowers. She arose as the men rolled the gurney in and stood silently as they transferred her to the bed under the woman and the arriving doctor's eyes. After giving the woman a warm embrace, Dr. Cyd checked her patient and satisfied with what she saw, she turned the light down and gestured to the chair opposite.

"It's good to see you looking so well, Rob, and thank you for coming at such short notice but I have a sneaking suspicion that she's going to need you as soon as she awakens."

"It's as bad as that?"

"Rob, this might be your hardest case yet."

The woman sighed deeply, casting a sad eye onto the sleeping woman. "I read her chart. Is she really Killer Colvin's wife?"

"Yep." Dr. Cyd pulled the covers up over Shandi's shoulders, checking for bleeding on the snow white bandages around her head. "She's going to go through the worst trial of her life, both literally and figuratively, so I'm going to need you to take care of her once we release her. Can you do it?"

"Of course, Cyd." Rob stood, her eyes still on the woman. "I'll be back first thing in the morning."

"Thanks, Rob. I really appreciate it."

"Thank me later, doc. Let's get Killer Colvin's wife on her feet first."