Chapter 2 - The Emergency Room
I strapped Maya into her car seat with shaking hands.
She whimpered as the seatbelt brushed against her bruised wrist.
“I’ve got you, baby, Daddy’s got you,” I murmured, kissing her uninjured cheek.
I slammed the door and got into the driver’s seat, peeling out of the driveway.
I didn’t care that my tires tore up my father’s immaculate lawn.
My only goal was getting Maya to the hospital to document everything.
The drive to the emergency room was a blur of streetlights and unshed tears.
When we walked through the sliding glass doors, the triage nurse took one look at Maya’s face and rushed us back.
A pediatrician named Dr. Evans examined her with gentle, practiced hands.
“These marks on her arm are defensive,” Dr. Evans said, her expression grave.
“And the bruise on her forehead looks like she was pushed against something hard.”
I felt a fresh wave of nausea hit me.
“My sister and my brother did this,” I said, my voice cracking.
The doctor nodded slowly, writing down my exact words on her tablet.
“As a mandated reporter, I have to call child protective services and the police,” she informed me.
“Please do,” I pleaded, holding Maya’s tiny hand.
I wanted everything on the record.
I wanted Marcus and Chloe to pay for what they had done to my innocent child.
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Ten minutes later, two uniformed police officers walked into our curtained cubicle.
The real fight was just beginning.
