Robyn
The two policemen look around and take in the mess. “Are you hurt mam?” one asks. “No, but he was shot.” I answer. “Let me take over.” one says and takes off his jacket, and puts it over the wound. The other one helps me up, and puts his jacket over my shoulders. It's only then that I realize I am still in my nightie, and it's torn.
“An ambulance is on its way. He has a pulse, and it's still strong,” The officer that helped me up says, while he checked Ricardo’s pulse. “The man that shot him got away. He kidnapped me from our home and brought me here. This is my husband.” I say.
“We already know who you are and what happened to you, mam. The FBI agent in charge filled us in. The perpetrator did get away, but he was wounded. There is a trail of blood leading deeper into the fores
