Dad lifted his head when he heard my voice.

“I’m here,” I told him, kneeling beside his chair. “You’re coming with me as soon as we know you’re all right.”

His eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t do what she’s saying.”

“I believe you deserve to be heard, Dad. First, tell me where you’re hurting.”

He tried to stand, perhaps to prove he was fine, but his knees gave way almost immediately. I caught his elbow and helped him settle back into the chair. His cardigan sleeve slipped toward his elbow, revealing several dark marks around his wrist.

I had seen enough injured people in my career to know that marks like those required medical attention, not speculation from a daughter who happened to carry a badge.

“Dad, did someone grab your arm?”

He pulled the sleeve down.

“It’s nothing. I don’t want any more trouble.”

I looked toward Garrett. He had watched his father nearly collapse without taking a single step forward.

That was the moment I stopped thinking of this as an ugly family argument.

I approached the desk and asked for the officer handling the incident. Officer Dunning introduced himself and explained that deputies had responded to a disturbance at Dad’s house after Tanya called 911.

“My father is having trouble standing, and he has visible injuries,” I said. “Has anyone requested medical assistance?”

“He declined treatment at the scene, ma’am.”

“I’d like someone to ask him again, away from the people involved in the complaint.”

Dunning glanced toward Tanya. “We’re still sorting out conflicting statements.”

“I understand. I’m his daughter, and I also work in law enforcement. I’m not here in an official capacity, and I won’t interfere with your investigation. But he’s eighty, he’s injured, and he needs to be examined.”