Albert's POVThe rhythmic thrum of bass pulsed through the air as I pushed open the heavy oak doors of The Rusty Nail. The familiar smoky haze hung low, swirling around the patrons who crowded the dimly lit bar.A group of women on the dance floor swayed to the music. Ignoring the suggestive glances

Albert's POVIvan and I raced through the city streets to get to the hospital. The image of Mia, vulnerable and injured, filled my mind. By the time we reached the hospital, a sense of urgency had morphed into a cold, steely resolve.Pushing through the automatic doors of the hospital, I found Katie