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Derik continued to support her weight, and Morgan leaned on him more and more as they made their way toward his car. "Morgan, you're not making any sense," he said. "We need to report this."
"Derik, please," she said. "Please, trust me. I'm asking you. I don't want to report it, not yet, okay?"
Derik stopped and looked at her, his green eyes softening. Morgan was sure he could tell there was more to this than she was letting on, and he'd be right. She looked into his eyes, silently begging him, for once, to just listen to her and not push back.
And to her surprise, he let out a sigh. "Okay. We won't report it yet, but only if you agree to go to the hospital."
Morgan nodded, managing a smile. "Agreed."
***
Morgan lied in the sterile hospital bed, her dark hair splayed across the white pillowcase like a black inkblot. The bright lights above her seemed to pierce through her skull, and she winced as she fought against the pain pulsating through her head. Her body felt bruised and battered, but her mind was sharp, alert, and racing with thoughts.
"Miss Cross," a concerned nurse said as she checked Morgan's vitals, "can you tell us again what happened?"
Morgan hesitated for a moment, recalling the sensation of bullets tinging off the metal of her car, shattering glass and shredding hope. But she couldn't tell them that. She forced herself to lie, "I lost control of my car after an animal ran onto the road. It flipped, and... well, here I am."
The staff exchanged glances, their eyes filled with skepticism. Surely, they had seen many accidents before, and they knew when things didn't add up.
"Alright, Miss Cross," the doctor said, his tone strained with doubt. "We've examined you and it seems you have a concussion. You'll need to take some time off work to recover."
Morgan clenched her jaw, the tattoos on her arms rippling as she tightened her fists. "That's absolutely not an option. I'm an FBI agent, and I'm currently working on a murder investigation. As long as I can walk, I'll be fine."
She could see the worry furrowing the doctor's brow, but she wouldn't allow herself to be sidelined now. Not when she was so close to finding out the truth. Not when Thomas Grady, the man who once wanted to date her and now betrayed her, might be responsible for the chaos surrounding her life. If he was involved, then reporting the incident would only bring her more trouble. She had to get out there and solve this case, then she could worry about Thomas later. Either way, she couldn't afford a hospital stay. Not right now.
"Miss Cross, we understand your dedication to your job, but your health should be a priority," the doctor insisted, his voice firm yet compassionate.
Gritting her teeth, Morgan pushed herself off the hospital bed, determined to stand on her own. Her head throbbed with a vengeance, and for a fleeting moment, the room swirled around her. She clenched her jaw and steadied herself, refusing to give in to the pain or let the staff see her struggle.
"Miss Cross, please reconsider," the doctor said, his voice laced with concern. "You should rest and recover properly."
"I'm fine," Morgan insisted through gritted teeth, her gaze fixed on a spot across the room. She knew she couldn't afford any delays in her investigation or allow this accident to become a distraction. The stakes were too high, and the lives of others hung in the balance.
"Very well," the doctor sighed, seeing that there was no reasoning with her. "But if you experience any worsening symptoms, promise me you'll come back immediately."
Morgan nodded curtly, grateful they weren't trying to keep her any longer.
As she stepped into the hallway, Derik rushed over to her side, his green eyes filled with concern. "Morgan, are you okay?" he asked, reaching out to steady her.
"Fine," she replied, brushing off his assistance, though inside, she appreciated having him here.
A nurse dashed down the hall after them, catching her breath before speaking. "Agent Greene, Agent Cross has a concussion and really needs to be off her feet," she advised, her tone firm.
"Thanks for the update," Morgan said sarcastically, her impatience growing. "But I can handle myself. We have a case to work on, and I won't let this slow me down."
With that, Morgan took off toward the exit. Moments later, Derik chased after her.
Morgan stepped out of the hospital into the harsh sunlight, squinting against its glare. The air was heavy with the scent of car exhaust and blooming flowers, a stark contrast to the sterile environment she'd just left. Derik caught up with her, his face creased with worry.
"Hey, Morgan, come on," he said.
"Did you manage to get that rental car I asked for?" Morgan questioned as they walked toward the parking lot.
"Of course," Derik replied, eyeing her cautiously. "But I don't think you should be driving, not with a concussion."
"Derik, I'm fine," Morgan insisted, her tone firm. "I'm an adult, an agent, and I know my limits. It's just a minor concussion."
She could see the frustration in Derik's eyes, but she didn't care. She had been through worse during her time in prison, and this case was too important to let anything stand in her way. As they reached the rental car, a sleek black sedan, Morgan gripped the handle and took a deep breath. A wave of dizziness washed over her, but she shook it off, refusing to give Derik any further reason to doubt her abilities.
