Chapter 2 - The Emergency Room
The fluorescent lights of the emergency room felt harsh and unforgiving.
David sat in the uncomfortable plastic chair, holding Leo’s small, cold hand as a pediatrician examined the injuries.
The doctor, a stern-looking woman with kind eyes, gently touched the scratches on Leo’s neck.
"These were made by an adult's fingernails," she stated, her tone shifting from comforting to clinical.
David felt his jaw clench so hard his teeth ached.
"My cousin did it," David admitted, his voice eerily calm despite the storm inside him.
"She said she was just playing, that he needed to toughen up."
The doctor stopped writing on her clipboard and looked David dead in the eye.
"That is not play, sir," she said firmly.
"That is assault, and as a medical professional, I am mandated to report this to the police."
"I want you to report it," David replied instantly.
"I want it all documented, every single scratch and bruise."
Within the hour, two uniformed police officers arrived at the hospital room to take David’s statement.
He recounted the entire evening with chilling precision, from the moment he walked into the dining room to the porcelain plate his uncle threw at their heads.
The younger officer took meticulous notes, while the older one took high-resolution photographs of Leo’s face and neck.
"We will be paying your family a visit tonight, Mr. Vance," the older officer promised grimly.
David nodded, wrapping a warm hospital blanket around his exhausted son.
He knew his family would lie, twist the narrative, and play the victims.
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But they had messed with the wrong father.
This meant war.
