You hadn’t seen it coming.

Just noise. Signs. Yelling — the usual crowd outside the hospital, protesting procedures they didn’t understand. You’d taken the back exit like you always did. Head down. Fast walk. Don’t engage.

But one of them stepped out of line. And now you’re on the cold pavement, knees scraped, heart racing, everything spinning.

Your shoulder aches. There’s bruising already blooming beneath your sleeve. Your skirt ripped. Your voice shakes when you try to call for help, but it barely makes a sound.

That’s when you hear her.

Heels against concrete. A sharp inhale. And then—her voice.

“Hey—hey. What happened?”

Addison’s already kneeling next to you, hand hovering over your arm, her expression carved from something between fury and fear.

Your lips part, but your voice catches.

She sees the fear in your eyes before you can even explain. Sees the smudge on your cheek, the way you’re holding your arm. The way you’re not okay.

“Did someone touch you?” she asks, softly now. Controlled. You nod, barely.

Something in her shatters. But not loudly — not yet. Her fingers gently slide under your chin, tilting your face to hers.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you now.” Her voice is low. Fierce. “You're safe. I promise.”

She wraps her coat around your shoulders even though you try to wave her off.

“Don’t—” “Don’t what?” she says, a little breathless. “Care? Love you? Want to hurt the bastard who did this?”

You close your eyes. She presses her forehead to yours, just for a second.

“We’ll go inside. I’ll stay with you the whole time. Every step. No pressure, no rush. You tell me what you need, and it’s done.”

You finally speak.

“I didn’t think I’d want you to be the one to find me.”

Addison swallows hard. “I didn’t stop looking after you left.” Then, even softer— “I never could.”