I leaned against the wall.
“And Sophia?”
“She’s with security. She’s fine, physically. But she won’t stop asking if Dylan died.”
I felt the world tilt under me.
“What?”
Marissa swallowed hard.
“Chloe told her that Dylan was very sick and that maybe he wasn’t going to wake up. She told her it was his fault for ruining the vacation.”
I squeezed the phone until my fingers hurt.
“And Buddy?”
“The dog is with us. He doesn’t understand anything, poor thing.”
I almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because of the absurdity.
The dog had received more care than the child.
Ten minutes later, another text arrived.
It was from Chloe.
“You’re going to regret this. Richard is going to believe me. He always does.”
I didn’t feel afraid anymore.
I took a screenshot and sent it to the police officer.
Then I replied to her for the first time.
“I’m not alone. And neither is Dylan.”
She didn’t text back.
Richard arrived at the hospital a little before eleven.
He ran in, his shirt wrinkled, a five o’clock shadow on his face, and red eyes. When he saw Dylan sleeping, he froze at the door as if he had no right to cross the threshold.
“Come in,” I said.
He took one step.
Then another.
He approached the bed and covered his mouth with both hands. He looked at the IV, the small bruises on his legs, his ribs showing under the hospital gown. The man I had seen fiercely negotiate contracts, fight with banks, and carry heavy furniture by himself, fell to pieces in silence.
“Son,” he whispered.
Dylan opened his eyes.
For a second, he didn’t react.
Then he reached out his hand.
“Dad.”
Richard leaned down and hugged him so carefully it looked like he was afraid of breaking him.
“Forgive me,” he kept repeating. “Forgive me, my love. Forgive me.”
Dylan, still weak, touched his face.
“Mommy said you were mad at me.”
Richard closed his eyes.
“Never. Never, Dylan.”
I looked out the window to give them privacy, but the pain filled the entire room. There was no corner to hide in.
A while later, Richard stepped out into the hallway with me.
“Sophia is with CPS,” he told me. “Chloe tried to say that you took Dylan out of the house just to set her up.”
“Of course.”
“But they found the lock. The bottle. The napkin. The security cameras from the neighborhood. And the text messages.”
He ran his hands over his face.
“They also found photos on her phone. Of Dylan locked in.”
I felt nauseous.
“What for?”
Richard couldn’t look at me.
“To send to me. But she chose angles where he looked like he was just sleeping. She texted me on Friday saying Dylan was staying with you because she didn’t want him getting Sophia sick. I… I believed her.”
“Because it was easier to believe her.”
His eyes filled with tears.
“Yes.”
That honesty didn’t save him.
But it was the first brick in rebuilding.
“You’re going to have to fight for them,” I told him. “Not to look like a good dad. To actually be one.”
He nodded.
“I know.”
“And if a judge decides you’re unfit, you’re going to accept it.”
That hurt him.
I was glad.
“Yes,” he said. “I will accept it.”
The next day, Chloe showed up at the hospital escorted by two police officers for an official procedure. They didn’t let her near Dylan. I saw her from the hallway.
She wasn’t wearing her sun hat or sunglasses anymore.
But her makeup was still intact.
She was still trying to hold up that face of an offended woman to whom everyone owes an apology.
When she saw me, she smirked.
“Feeling like a hero?”
I got close enough for her to hear me, not to touch her.
“I feel like an aunt.”
Her smirk twisted.
“Dylan exaggerates. He was always a difficult child.”
“He’s five years old.”
“You don’t know what it’s like living with him.”
I looked at her and understood something that chilled me more than her texts.
Chloe didn’t feel guilty.
She just felt caught.
“No,” I told her. “But I do know what it’s like to find him nearly dead because you wanted a perfect photo at a resort.”
For the first time, she lowered her eyes.
Not out of shame.
Out of rage.
“You took my family away from me.”
“No. You locked it away with a key.”
A female officer escorted her toward the exit.
Chloe turned back one last time.
“Richard isn’t going to be able to handle it alone.”
That phrase stuck with me.
Because maybe it was true.
But just because something is difficult doesn’t mean a monstrosity is inevitable.
