Chapter 1 - The Horn Inside the Heat
The horn sounded twice as I stepped out of my SUV, weak and uneven, like someone had fallen against it.
Rachel’s black sedan sat in the middle of the driveway under the Arizona sun, engine off, windows sealed. The dashboard clock read 2:17. The temperature display outside Tyler’s house in Chandler showed 112 degrees.
I saw my daughter’s hand strike the rear window.
Then I saw the baby.
Rachel was folded over Lily’s carrier, trying to shade her three-week-old daughter with her own body. Her blond hair was plastered to her neck. Her mouth moved, but I couldn’t hear her through the glass.
Tyler stood inside the open garage with Vanessa beside him.
My son-in-law had one hand around the key fob.
“Open the car!” I screamed.
Tyler took one step forward. “Diane, she’s having one of her episodes. Don’t make this worse.”
Vanessa’s pink top was dark beneath the arms. She looked toward the sedan, then quickly away.
Rachel hit the window again.
I ran to my SUV, grabbed the tire iron from beneath the cargo floor, and swung at the rear passenger window. The first strike cracked it. The second opened a jagged hole. Heat rolled out like air from an oven.
Tyler shouted my name, but I struck again until the glass collapsed across the seat.
Rachel didn’t flinch.
I reached through, pulled the lock, and dragged the door open. Lily’s face was red, her cries reduced to dry, shallow noises. Rachel tried to lift the carrier, but her arms gave out.
“She needs shade,” I said. “Call 911.”
Tyler didn’t move.
Vanessa did. She pulled out her phone with hands that suddenly seemed too clumsy to belong to her.
I carried Lily beneath the garage overhang while Rachel crawled after me, one hand pressed to her abdomen. She had delivered by C-section twenty-two days earlier. Tyler had told me she was recovering beautifully.
Rachel caught my wrist.
“Mom.”
“I’m here.”
Her eyes struggled to focus.
“Tyler and Vanessa…” she whispered.
“What about them?”
Her fingers tightened.
“The bottles.”
Then her head dropped against my shoulder.
As the dispatcher answered Vanessa’s call, I looked at Lily’s diaper bag lying beside the garage door.
May you like
Rachel’s phone rested on top of it.
Neither item had ever been inside the car.
