Chapter 5 - Emergency ResponseWith a master key provided by the locksmith, Sergeant Ramirez unlocked the front door and pushed it open, his service weapon drawn at a low ready position, accompanied by his partner. I pressed in right behind them, my lungs burning, my senses hyper-focused.
The moment we stepped into the foyer, the sharp, metallic smell of fresh blood hit us.
"Clear!" Officer Ramirez’s partner shouted from the kitchen.
"Upstairs! The nursery is at the end of the hall on the right!" I shouted, rushing past them up the staircase.
When I reached the nursery doorway, my heart stopped for a second time. Paramedics were already kneeling beside Megan, who was conscious but dangerously pale, her lips tinged with blue from blood loss. An IV bag was already hanging from a makeshift pole as a paramedic applied direct pressure to her lower abdomen, working with swift, grim efficiency.
"Megan," I gasped, dropping to my knees beside her, grabbing her cold, trembling hand. "Megan, I’m here. I’m so sorry, I’m right here."
She looked at me, her eyes hollow, haunted by whatever terrifying words my mother had whispered into her ear just twenty minutes earlier. She tried to speak, but only a dry rasp escaped her throat. "Noah..." she whispered weakly. "She took... she has..."
"I've got him, ma'am," a female paramedic reassured her gently, glancing toward the corner of the room.
Standing in the rocking chair by the bay window, holding Noah securely against her floral cardigan, was Linda.
She didn't look panicked. She didn't look remorseful. She looked profoundly annoyed, as if a group of unruly teenagers had just crashed her bridge club.
"It’s about time you got home, Ethan," Linda said calmly, gently rocking the crying infant as if nothing unusual had occurred. "Your wife lacks discipline. She tried to climb out of bed, made a dreadful mess on the floor, and now she’s putting on a theatrical display for the authorities. Honestly, you spoil her."
The sheer, staggering narcissism of her statement hit me like a physical blow.
Sergeant Ramirez holstered his weapon, his face dark with suppressed fury, and stepped directly in front of Linda. He gestured sharply toward the baby in her arms. "Ma'am, step away from the child. Hand the baby to the medical personnel immediately."
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"Excuse me?" Linda bristled, her chin lifting with haughty indignation. "I am the grandmother! I am taking care of my grandson while this incapable woman—"
"Ma'am, this is not a request," Ramirez interrupted, his voice dropping into a dangerous, authoritative rumble that brooked zero argument. "You are being detained on suspicion of domestic abuse and reckless endangerment resulting in great bodily harm. Hand over the child right now, or I will use physical force."
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