Chapter 3 - The Hospital
We rode in the back of the ambulance.
The paramedics had wrapped Grandma’s head in thick white gauze.
But she refused to lie down on the stretcher.
She sat upright.
She held my baby brother.
She swayed gently as the sirens wailed through the city streets.
I held her free hand.
It was bruised and trembling, but her grip was like iron.
At the hospital, pediatricians swarmed my brother.
They checked his breathing.
They checked his spine.
They checked his fragile limbs.
The glass jar had been incredibly wide, but he was so tiny.
The doctors confirmed he had no broken bones.
He had no bruising.
His oxygen levels were perfect.
He was safe.
Grandma required fourteen stitches across her scalp where that monster had dragged her.
I sat in the sterile white waiting room.
Blood dried on my shirt.
I was exhausted to my core.
A detective in a gray suit walked in, carrying a clipboard.
He sat in the plastic chair next to me and offered a grim smile.
"They’re both in holding," he said softly.
May you like
"And your father’s phone gave us everything we need."
"They aren't getting out."
