The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 93

"Where did they kick you?!"

"Don't." Sloane stepped back, avoiding his touch.

Just then, the police escorted two of the kidnappers out of the building. The third was being carried on a stretcher, unconscious from a gunshot wound. As they passed by, Garrison glared at them viciously, burning their faces into his memory.

"Dr. Foster, the boy is quite young. He should get checked out at the hospital. Ms. Taylor, do you need... medical attention?" an officer approached and asked.

"I'm fine." Sloane shook her head.

"Alright. If you're up for it, please come down to the precinct to give a statement. We need to go through the formalities for what happened tonight."

Garrison nodded.

"Understood."

*

The police station was brightly lit.

The two of them were taken to separate interrogation rooms to give their statements.

Closing his notebook, the officer nodded. "Alright, thank you for your cooperation. We'll notify you if there are any developments. Go home and get some rest."

By the time they walked out of the precinct, the entire night had passed, and the first light of dawn was bleeding into the horizon.

Sloane and Garrison sat in the car, the engine off. Exhausted, they just sat there in silence for a while, watching the sky brighten through the windshield.

A thin mist blanketed the city. The streetlights were still on, their amber glow softening in the early morning light. A distant early-shift bus rumbled past, the low hum signaling the city slowly waking up.

"I'll drive you home," Garrison spoke first, his voice remarkably gentle.

During the questioning, he had realized the grim truth: if he had been the one to walk into that warehouse, the kidnappers would have executed him without hesitation.

Although the investigation was still ongoing, he already knew exactly who was pulling the strings—it had to be David Lancaster from Knox Bio.

If Garrison died, Project Vitas would die with him. That was David's ultimate goal.

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