'She's alive' thought Mal. Leaving the body of her father behind, he cradled her little body close to his chest. She was so still, it was hard to believe she was still breathing. With all the strength he had left, Mal full-on sprinted he length of the path, each step seemingly taking an eternity. He heard it though as he neared. Voices. He could see police lights. They were looking for him, and possibly could save Molly's life. 'It's my fault if she dies' he though 'this is the second time this girls pit her life on the line for me. She's only eight'. He neared the end, and saw guns trained on him as he ran through the treelike, yelling "Don't shoot! I have a child!". He resented every step her took, causing Molly's body more damage with every motion. As he ran into the parking lot, several paramedic much have seen him running with Molly because they quickly took her from his arms. "She's been shot" was all he seemed capable of saying. That and "Please, she saved my life, she's only eight. Please". They took her away, and Mal realized he had never felt this before. Worry, for someone he loved as if it were his own child. As if it had been his daughter that had been shot.
Natara was pacing like a tiger in a cage. She never strayed far from the phone though, she wanted to pounce on it when it rang. To know either way what the outcome was. To make it end. It rang, and several people went for it at once. Natara was the quickest though, and quickly snatched the phone away from the others hands.
"Hello?" she said. The others crowded around her, as if they could read her very thoughts. "No, I'm certain she isn't." Eventually she hung up, her face unreadable. "He's okay" she said, and there was a shared breath of relief. She was still frowning "Molly isn't".
"Who's Molly?" asked Amy.
"I don't know, but whoever it is they were under the impression she was Mal's daughter."
"Did he say that?" asked Amy.
"No, but apparently he nearly killed himself from exhaustion carrying her eight miles after she was shot."