Trinity
It took months before I was released from the hospital. It felt like I was on crutches for a long time and too weak to do much on my own. Mark had been great, letting me and my father stay at his house while I recovered. Mark would come home after his shift with the Salt Lake City police and ask me almost every day if I remembered anything. His questions strayed from normal to bizarre, especially when he asked about the wounds on my wrists and feet.
At first, I wondered if it was just routine to check and see. Maybe he was also working on my case. Since I’d been found in Utah, in his jurisdiction, instead of Chicago, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was something else behind him asking me all these questions. He seemed so focused on my wounds and how I’d gotten down in the v
