Sienna’s POV

I woke up to a ringing pain in my head, and my whole body aching badly. I tried to open my eyes but the light was blinding, and I turned my head away. That small motion set off another jolt of pain through my skull, and I groaned.

"Sienna?" Denzel's voice called. "Are you awake?"

A warm hand touched mine, and I finally managed to peel my eyes open. Denzel was leaning over me, peering at me worriedly. He looked visibly relieved when I opened my eyes.

"Oh, thank God," he breathed. "You're awake."

I could see that there was a small band-aid on his temple and his hair was a mess, but otherwise, he seemed fine.

I looked around, recognizing the room as a hospital room.

"What... How did I get here?" I asked.

"Don't you remember what happened?" Denzel asked. "The accident?"

I nodded slowly, even as the memory felt like it would cleave my head open again. The pain in my head was severe, and when I tried to glance down at my body, I caught glimpse of a few bruises along my arm. Various spots on my face also ached, and I knew they would be bruised.

"I remember," I said slowly. "We got hit?"

Denzel nodded, his eyes darting from my face down my body. "Don't worry, everything will be fine."

I tried to nod too, but couldn't. When I tried to reach for my head to check the extent of the damage, I felt something cold and metallic around my wrist.

Curiously, I glanced down, and saw that there was a pair of handcuffs holding my wrist to the metal rail of the hospital bed.

I stared at it incomprehensibly. Then I looked up at Denzel. He had an odd look on his face.

"What's this?" I asked slowly, wondering if I had hit my head so hard that I was imagining things. "Handcuffs? Why am I cuffed to the bed, Denzel?"

"Everything will be fine, Sienna," he soothed. "I won't let..."

I pulled my hand up again, and the cuffs hold it down, jangling against the bedframe.

"Why am I in cuffs?" I pressed. "What's going on?"

"Sienna calm..."

At that moment, a police officer stepped into the room, his eyes on me.

"Oh, good, you're awake," he said. "Miss Sienna, I assume you know..."

"What is the meaning of this?" I demanded. My heart had started to race. "I didn't do anything. Why am I being treated like this?"

"You are under arrest, ma'am, for murder," the officer said. "Whatever you say now may and will be used against you in court. You're entitled to an attorney, and if you cannot afford one, then the state will provide one for you."

It was like I was hearing his words from far away. The moment I heard "murder", my mind had stopped working.

"I'm not... I didn't..." I stuttered, unable to form words. I looked at Denzel helplessly. Why wasn't he saying something? Why didn't he tell them I didn't do anything?

I found my voice at last, and I sounded shrill and hysterical.

"I didn't kill anyone!" I shouted. "I don't know what you mean, but I didn't do it!"

The officer was unimpressed. "The moment you're discharged, you'll be moved to the police station. Please cooperate."

He left the room, while I stared, mouth agape.

"Sienna..." Denzel finally spoke.

I turned to him. "What is this about? Who do they think I kill?" I demanded.

"The accident," Denzel said reluctantly. "Someone died. They think you killed her."

"But..." I spluttered, confused. "But I didn't. You were there in the car. I didn't do anything!"

"I know that, Sienna," he said. "And I promise I'll testify for you in court. I'm your witness. I know the accident wasn't your fault."

I was stunned, and tried to pull my wrist out of the metal cuff. It didn't budge.

"But how could they think it was me?"

"There was another vehicle," Denzel said. "That's the real culprit, but they're saying you ran the red light and caused the accident." He reached up, and brushed a consoling hand across my cheek. "Don't worry. We'll resolve all this and put it behind us. You'll be fine."

Tears had already gathered in my eyes, and they finally began to pour. How had everything turned upside down so quickly? One moment I was happy, on my way to work, and looking forward to forever with Denzel, and the next I was in cuffs, accused of killing someone?

This had to be a horrible joke. Or a dream. I wanted to pinch myself to make sure j wasn't really asleep, but I knew only reality could be this cruel.

"It's going to be okay," Denzel repeated, wiping my tears away.

"Are you sure?" I cried. "Please don't let them take me away, Denzel."

"Everything will sort itself out, you'll see," he said, trying to sound confident.

I sniffed. "What about your interview? You couldn't make it..."

Denzel brushed it off. "Forget the interview. What matters is that you're safe." He leaned forward, taking my hand tightly in his. "God, Sienna you had me so worried. I was so scared something worse had happened to you."

"Worse than being accused of murder?" I cried. "I could go to prison, Den. I don't want to go to prison."

He shook his head. "You'll be safe. I won't let them pin this on you, I promise."

Again, the door to the room opened, and a different police officer poked his head in.

"Mr Denzel?" He called.

Denzel looked up.

"There's someone here for you."

Denzel frowned. "I can't leave Sienna. I..."

"You'll be notified when she's being moved," the cop said. "But this is important."

Denzel glanced back at me, and I squeezed his hand, not wanting him to leave me here, confused and chained up like a criminal.

"Don't go," I begged quietly, crying.

He pulled his hand away gently, and patted my hand.

"I'll be back, I promise."