Comforted by this, Selina simply responded, "That's reassuring."

Ending the call, Selina gripped her phone, her gaze icy with resolve.

She pondered how Rosalynn always seemed to escape fate.

Lyndon's timely intervention suggested he held her in special regard.

She was undeniably an alluring bitch.

Meanwhile, at the hospital, Rosalynn stood anxiously as Lyndon was wheeled into surgery.

She had done her best to assess his injuries along the way.

A bump on the head seemed minor, but with his history of head trauma, a concussion was a real concern, though his life wasn't in danger.

The memory of the incident still shook her.

That black sedan drove directly towards her, an unmistakable attempt on her life.

Who could be behind this, and why?

If Lyndon hadn't been there, she might have been dead by now.

Interrupting her thoughts, a police officer approached, flashing his badge.

“Did you call us? We'll need to take your statement."

Rosalynn recounted the distressing events to the officer.

The officer jotted down notes before inquiring, “Did you catch a glimpse of the car's license plate?"

No."

“And are you acquainted with the driver?"

"I'm not, no," Rosalynn responded. Pondering for a moment, she added, “However, I am positioned well for surveillance. It's possible we might locate the vehicle."

The officer closed his notebook with a snap.