As they laid together on the bearskin rug, spent, Lily absent-mindedly traced her finger along Greer's neck. "Have you heard about the attacks in Central Park?" she asked, so deep in thought she barely realized she'd spoken aloud.
Greer, surprised, propped himself up on one elbow. "How do you know about that?" he asked. "From what I understood, the police are keeping things pretty quiet until they have a clearer idea about what's going on."
“My ex-boyfriend, Jeff, is a police officer,” Lily said. “He’s been worried about me working so near the park.”
"So that's who showed up at your house on Sunday," Greer said. "I thought maybe he was your brother. I figured it best if he didn't find a strange man in your house, so I left. I could see the worst had passed, and you were on the mend.”
“Do you think I’ll ever know what happened to me after the crash?” Lily asked.
He pulled her close to him. "I won't rest until I know you're alright."