He names the hospital where I recently stayed for my concussion. I walk downstairs with them as they carry Tory out, listening in as the police and EMT talk. I watch while they load her into the ambulance, steadily and safely.
Lingering, I stand next to my baby, because I need to take a breather before scooting away. I scan the street on either side, wondering where the man could have gone. Suddenly, he no longer scares me. Then I hear my name.
“Ms. Saffron.” It’s Detective Chen, dressed in his signature dark blazer and blue jeans, and wielding a smart phone. “Why am I not surprised to see you here?”
I pause. “Is that a question?” I ask, even though I know he’s only trying to assert authority. “Tory and I are friends,” I fill him in.
&ld...

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