First it had been the police, and her brother, and the EMTs, asking her questions and assessing her amidst the carnage and wreckage of the restaurant. Then they’d taken her by ambulance to the hospital, where Kallie had gotten her ears and head checked. She had some temporary hearing loss in her right ear, which consisted mostly of just ringing—which the doctor who’d examined her claimed would go away in the next day or two. He’d had to stitch one of the cuts on her left hand. The other cuts on her hands were minor--they were from crawling on the shattered glass that had been all over the floor of the restaurant. She had other minor cuts and bruises and abrasions on her knees and legs. None of them mattered. The minute the doctor was done with her, she’d gone to wait in the surgical wing of the hospital. By this time, she had a small coterie of people following her around and trying to talk to her. Her brother Sean, a police officer, and now a hospital counselor, were all basically making sure that she couldn’t just sit still and have a moment to herself.
