Chapter 2 - The Letter Nobody Delivered
Deputy Ellis entered when Richard finally unlocked the front door, and Alex was immediately behind him.
The deputy ordered everyone to step away from me.
Trent raised both hands with the false innocence I had seen at every family gathering.
“She slipped,” he said.
“Pregnancy hormones.
She fell, and now she's confused.” Alex ignored him.
He knelt beside me but did not try to lift me.
“Emma, look at me,” he said.
“The medics are coming.” His voice was steady, but his eyes were not.
I told him where the stick had struck my leg and that my wrist hurt.
Ellis photographed the stick where Trent had dropped it.
Nicole tried to delete her recording.
The deputy told her to stop touching the phone.
Helen announced that she would sue everyone in the room.
Richard asked whether anyone understood who he knew at the county courthouse.
Alex had one hand resting near mine.
“Remember the blue envelope?” Trent said suddenly.
“Your precious brother remembers it.” Alex's expression tightened.
The ambulance arrived before I could ask another question.
As the paramedics secured me to the stretcher, I watched Nicole turn toward the hallway.
Ellis stopped her, but the glance told me something was hidden there.
I had spent two years believing the family's cruelty was spontaneous.
Now the three of them were exchanging looks like people following a plan.
In the ambulance, a paramedic asked when I'd last felt my daughter move.
I searched my memory and realized I couldn't say.
She had moved before bedtime.
Since then there had been the stairs, the collapse, and the terrible pain.
I stared at the ceiling and tried to count her movements anyway.
Alex rode in the front, after promising that he would not leave.
When we reached the hospital, an obstetric team was waiting.
They moved me into a room full of monitors, pressed a probe against my belly, and listened.
For several unbearable seconds there was only static.
Then the heartbeat came through, fast and fierce.
I cried so hard I could hardly hear the nurse reassuring me.
Dr.
Lena Ortiz said the heartbeat was present but that they needed continuous monitoring and more tests.
My brother stood beside the door with the blue envelope Trent had mentioned.
“I didn't know whether showing you this would make things worse,” he confessed.
May you like
“I should have told you months ago.”
