“We found the driver,” she said.
Hannah’s body tightened.
“Was it Charlotte’s ex?”
Janet nodded.
She explained the confrontation, the security footage, the abandoned pickup, and the statements Tyler and Charlotte had given.
Hannah listened without interrupting.
When Janet finished, Hannah asked the question that mattered most.
“Did he hit me on purpose?”
“We have no evidence that he knew you were in that car,” Janet said.
“Right now, it appears he fled the restaurant angry, drove recklessly, ran the light, and left the scene after the collision.”
Hannah absorbed that slowly.
Tyler had not planned the crash.
He had not sent the truck toward her.
But after learning she had been hurt, he had still chosen to remain at the table that started the chain of events.
“He keeps saying he didn’t cause it,” Janet added.
“He didn’t,” Hannah said.
“The crash belongs to the driver.”
She looked toward the phone vibrating beside her.
“But that message belongs to Tyler.”
Hannah asked Janet to send her the incident number.
She saved screenshots of every message before turning the phone facedown.
Then she opened the paper envelope and slipped the wedding ring into her purse.
Not onto her finger.
The next morning, Tyler sent flowers.
The card said: We need to talk before this gets out of control.
Hannah asked the nurse to remove them.
By noon, his messages had changed from concern to panic.
I didn’t know it was that serious.
Charlotte was terrified.
Her ex could have hurt her.
You embarrassed me by sending police into the restaurant.
Call me so we can handle this privately.
That final message made Hannah almost laugh.
He was worried about privacy only after the truth acquired witnesses.
When she was discharged, her shoulder remained strapped in a brace.
Bright bruises spread across her chest where the seat belt had stopped her from striking the windshield.
Officer Morrison arranged to be present when Hannah returned home.
It was not an arrest or an eviction.
It was simply a civil standby while an injured woman collected what she needed and told her husband what came next.
Tyler was waiting in the kitchen.
The breakfast dishes from the morning of the crash were still in the sink.
His face looked gray from lack of sleep.
“Hannah.”
She walked past him and placed her hospital paperwork on the table.
“I came as soon as I knew how bad it was,” he said.
“You knew I had a concussion.”
“I thought you were being dramatic.
You know how you get when you’re upset.”
Officer Morrison stood silently near the doorway.
Hannah looked at Tyler for a long moment.
A day earlier, that sentence might have started an argument.
Now it only confirmed the decision she had already made.
“You thought a dislocated shoulder and concussion were drama,” she said.
“But Charlotte crying at lunch was an emergency.”
“Her ex was unstable.”
“And he had just confronted you because of your relationship with her.”
