Chapter 3
The paramedics swarmed the living room first.
One knelt by Jamie, checking his pulse, shining a light in his eyes.
The other wrapped a blanket around Lila, who was still shivering even though the house was warm.
The officers moved past me.
One went straight to Mara, who was still on the kitchen floor.
The other knelt by the hole in the floor, taking photos, calling for a forensics team.
“Can you tell me what happened, ma’am?” the first officer asked.
I stared at Jamie.
He was on a stretcher now, an IV in his arm.
His eyes were closed.
“Three weeks ago,” I said.
My voice sounded like someone else’s.
“My son walked out to get the mail. He never came back. We filed a report. You had no leads.”
The officer nodded, writing in a notebook.
“And your sister?”
I looked at Mara.
She was in handcuffs now, being led to the door.
Her face was streaked with tears.
She looked at me.
Mouthed the word “sorry.”
I turned away.
“She showed up two days after Jamie disappeared,” I said.
“Said she wanted to redo our living room floor for free. To give us something to focus on. Her crew finished yesterday.”
The officer’s pen stopped moving.
He looked at the hole in the floor.
Then at Mara, who was being helped into a squad car.
“Did she have access to the house the whole time?”
“Every day,” I said.
A fresh wave of nausea hit me.
“She cooked for us. Sat with me while I cried. Held Lila when she had nightmares. All while he was under our feet.”
The paramedic touched my arm.
“Ma’am? We’re taking your son to the hospital. You should come with us.”
I nodded.
Grabbed Lila’s hand.
She wouldn’t let go of Jamie’s stretcher as we wheeled it out.
The drive to the hospital was a blur.
I called my husband Mark from the ambulance.
He was three hours away, on a work trip he’d left for the day before Jamie vanished.
He’d been beating himself up ever since.
Said if he’d been home, none of this would have happened.
When he answered, I could barely get the words out.
“We found him,” I sobbed.
“Mark, we found Jamie.”
There was a crash on the other end.
Like he’d dropped his phone.
“Where?” he said.
His voice was raw, desperate.
“Is he okay?”
“He’s alive,” I said.
“Mara had him. Under the new floor. Mark, she had him under our floor.”
Mark swore.
A long, broken sound.
“I’m leaving right now,” he said.
“I’ll be there in two and a half hours. I don’t care about speeding tickets. Keep me updated. Please.”
We hung up.
Jamie stirred on the stretcher.
His eyes fluttered open.
“Dad?” he whispered.
“Dad’s coming, baby,” I said.
Brushing his hair back.
“He’s coming as fast as he can.”
Lila squeezed his hand.
“I knew you were there,” she said to him.
Quiet, like it was a secret just for them.
Jamie managed a small smile.
The first one I’d seen in three weeks.
It was wobbly, and his lip was split, but it was real.
We pulled into the hospital bay.
Doctors and nurses waiting for us.
They wheeled Jamie straight into the ER.
Lila and I sat in the waiting room.
A nurse brought us hot chocolate.
It was too sweet, too hot.
I held the cup between my hands.
Watched the steam curl up toward the fluorescent lights.
Every siren that passed made me jump.
Every time a doctor walked through the doors, my heart stopped.
Two hours later, Mark burst through the entrance.
His shirt was unbuttoned, his hair a mess.
He ran to us.
Fell to his knees in front of Lila and me.
Wrapped his arms around both of us.
He was shaking.
“I’m so sorry,” he kept saying.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.”
I held him.
For the first time since Jamie disappeared, I let myself break completely.
We sat there, holding each other, until a doctor came out.
Wearing scrubs, a small smile on her face.
May you like
“Your son is going to be okay,” she said.
“He’s dehydrated, malnourished, and has a few broken ribs that are healing on their own. But he’s strong. He’s asking for you.”
