Chapter 2 - THE THING REBECCA NEVER TOLD HIM
Cumberland County EMS arrived seven minutes later.
No convoy.
No soldiers.
No dramatic display of military authority.
John’s satellite phone belonged to Blackwood Field Systems, the emergency-communications company he had built after retiring from active duty. Its operations center could route distress calls for employees working where ordinary cell service was unreliable.
His emergency code had done exactly what it was designed to do.
It got the right civilian responders moving quickly.
Lily’s temperature was 103.1.
The paramedic wrapped her in a dry blanket and asked how long she had been outside.
John looked at Sarah.
Sarah crossed her arms.
“Maybe twenty minutes.”
Lily shook her head.
Sarah’s jaw tightened.
The paramedic crouched beside Lily.
“You don’t have to worry about anybody getting in trouble. I just need to know so I can take care of you.”
Lily held up four fingers.
John frowned.
“Four minutes?”
Lily whispered, “Four Blueys.”
Episodes.
Nearly an hour.
The paramedic looked at John.
“I’d like her evaluated tonight.”
John agreed.
Sarah stepped forward.
“She has a cold. This is ridiculous.”
The paramedic turned toward her.
“Were you responsible for her?”
Sarah did not answer.
John did.
“Yes.”
Sarah snapped her head toward him.
“Rebecca asked me to keep an eye on both kids.”
John looked at her.
“My wife told me Lily was going to Mrs. Harper’s after preschool.”
Mrs. Harper lived three houses down and had watched Lily twice before.
Sarah looked away.
Another piece shifted.
John called Rebecca.
No answer.
She was in Raleigh for a hospital finance conference and had texted at noon that she would be in meetings until five.
John sent one sentence.
Lily is sick. Call me now.
He rode with Lily to urgent care while his safety coordinator stayed at the house until Sarah’s former husband arrived for Mason.
That created another surprise.
Sarah did not object when Eric came for the boy.
She looked terrified.
At Cape Fear Valley’s pediatric urgent-care clinic, Lily tested positive for influenza.
She was dehydrated but stable.
The clinician asked John what had happened outside.
He told the truth.
The clinician’s face became more serious.
“I need to make a child-welfare report based on what you’ve described.”
John nodded.
He had expected that.
Lily, half asleep beside him, whispered, “Will Aunt Sarah be mad?”
“No.”
“She gets mad when people tell.”
John pulled the blanket higher around her.
“What people?”
Lily’s eyes opened.
“Mom.”
John stopped.
“Mom tells?”
Lily shook her head.
“Mom tells me not to.”
John felt something deeper than anger.
“What does she tell you not to say?”
Lily looked toward the exam-room door.
“That Aunt Sarah puts me in timeout when Mason needs quiet.”
“What kind of timeout?”
“The porch.”
John said nothing for several seconds.
“How many times?”
Lily shrugged.
“Sometimes.”
Rebecca finally called at 5:18.
Her voice came breathless.
“Is Lily okay?”
“She has the flu.”
“Oh God.”
“She was locked outside.”
Silence.
John continued.
“In pajamas.”
Another silence.
“Sarah dumped ice water over us when I brought her in.”
Rebecca made a small sound.
Then she said the wrong thing.
“I told Sarah never to do that again.”
John closed his eyes.
Not I can’t believe she did that.
Not what are you talking about?
Again.
“You knew.”
“John—”
“How long?”
“Please let me explain.”
He looked at Lily sleeping beneath the paper-thin clinic blanket.
“How long have you known Sarah was putting my daughter outside?”
May you like
Rebecca did not answer.
That became the first answer.
