Chapter 2
The EMTs were there before David finished opening his mouth to argue.
Two men in blue uniforms pushed past the security guards, their medical bags swinging.
One knelt beside me, his voice gentle.
“Ma’am? Can you hear me? We need to check your son.”
I nodded, but I didn’t let go of Leo.
Not at first.
My arms were locked around him like if I held on tight enough, I could undo what had happened.
“His head,” I said, my voice raw, barely a whisper.
“She threw him. He hit the wall. He hasn’t woken up.”
The EMT carefully lifted the dish towel from Leo’s forehead.
He hissed between his teeth.
“Laceration’s pretty deep. We need to get him to the ER now. CT scan, make sure there’s no bleeding on the brain.”
He looked up at his partner.
“Load him up. Lights and sirens.”
I tried to stand to go with them, but my legs gave out.
The pain in my ribs hit me all at once, sharp and burning, and I gasped.
The second EMT caught me before I fell.
“Easy, ma’am. You’re hurt too. We’ll take both of you. Okay?”
I looked over at David and Helen as they led me to the ambulance.
Two police officers had David in handcuffs, his arms twisted behind his back.
He was yelling, his face red, spit flying.
“This is entrapment! She set me up! That lying bitch—”
One of the officers shoved him toward the patrol car.
“Shut your mouth. You have the right to remain silent. Use it.”
Helen was screaming too, high and shrill, as another officer cuffed her.
“You can’t do this to us! We’re good people! She’s a gold digger, she only married our son for his money—”
Mr. Hale stepped in front of her, cutting her off.
He held up another paper from his binder.
“Your son has $427 in his checking account, Ms. Carter. $18,000 in credit card debt. Every bill in this house for the last five years has been paid by Mrs. Carter. Rent, utilities, groceries, your prescription medications. You have no money. She has $5 billion. Who exactly is the gold digger here?”
Helen’s mouth snapped shut.
She went pale again, then started crying, loud fake sobs that made my stomach turn.
The ambulance ride was a blur.
I sat on the bench beside Leo’s stretcher, holding his cold hand, while the EMT put an IV in my arm and gave me something for the pain.
The sirens wailed, but I barely heard them.
I kept staring at Leo’s face, waiting for his eyes to flutter open.
Waiting for him to call me Mommy.
He didn’t.
His chest rose and fell, slow and steady, but he was still unconscious.
The cut on his forehead had been bandaged, but blood had seeped through the white gauze, turning it pink.
At the hospital, they wheeled Leo straight back for a CT scan.
A nurse led me to a small exam room to stitch up my knees and check my ribs.
She was quiet as she cleaned the cuts, her hands gentle.
When she was done, she handed me a cup of water and a warm blanket.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice soft.
“No one should ever have to go through that. Especially not with a little boy.”
I nodded, but I couldn’t speak.
My throat was too tight.
I wrapped the blanket around myself, but I still couldn’t get warm.
Mr. Hale found me an hour later, sitting in the waiting room, staring at the closed doors to the ER.
He sat down beside me, his suit still crisp, his expression softer than it had been at the house.
“Leo’s CT scan is clear,” he said.
“No bleeding on the brain. Just a bad concussion and a cut that needed four stitches. The doctor says he’ll wake up soon. He’s going to be okay.”
The breath I’d been holding since Leo hit the wall whooshed out of me.
I leaned forward, my head in my hands, and sobbed.
For the first time all night, I let myself cry.
Hard, ugly sobs that shook my whole body.
Mr. Hale didn’t say anything.
He just sat there, quiet, until I could breathe again.
When I calmed down, he handed me a tissue and told me what came next.
“David and Helen are being booked at the downtown precinct right now. Charges are felony domestic violence, child endangerment, aggravated assault with a deadly weapon—Helen’s switch counts—and terroristic threats. The DA’s already seen the video. He’s pushing for no bail. We’ll be at the arraignment tomorrow morning at nine.”
He paused, then added, “I’ve already had my assistant book the penthouse at the Four Seasons for you and Leo. Full security detail 24/7. No one gets within 50 feet of you without my say-so. You’re safe now, Clara. I promise.”
Safe.
I hadn’t felt safe in five years.
I didn’t know if I’d ever feel safe again.
But when a nurse came out to get me, saying Leo was awake and asking for me, I stood up.
My legs were still shaky, but I walked.
Fast.
Leo was in a private room, propped up on pillows, a teddy bear the nurses had given him tucked under his arm.
His forehead was covered in a big white bandage, and his left eye was already starting to bruise.
But when he saw me, his face lit up.
“Mommy,” he said, his voice hoarse.
I ran to the bed and climbed in beside him, wrapping my arms around him as gently as I could.
I kissed his cheek, his hair, the top of his bandage.
“I’m here, baby,” I whispered.
“Mommy’s here. I’m never letting anyone hurt you again. Ever.”
He snuggled into my chest, his small hand fisting the back of my shirt.
“Daddy and Grandma are gone?” he asked, his voice small.
I nodded.
“Yes, baby. They’re gone. They can’t hurt us anymore.”
He was quiet for a minute, then he looked up at me, his big brown eyes serious.
“Promise?”
I kissed his forehead, right above the bandage.
“I promise, Leo. With all my heart.”
That night, we slept in the penthouse at the Four Seasons.
Two security guards stood outside the door.
Two more patrolled the hallway.
Leo fell asleep almost instantly, exhausted, his head on my shoulder.
I lay awake for hours, staring at the ceiling.
Every time a floorboard creaked, every time the air conditioner kicked on, I flinched.
I kept waiting for David to stumble through the door, drunk and angry.
Kept waiting for Helen’s cold voice.
But no one came.
The room was quiet.
Safe.
May you like
Sometime before dawn, I closed my eyes.
For the first time in five years, I didn’t have to sleep with one eye open.
